Healing with Thorns: The Hard Truth About Reclaiming Your Narrative
It’s been a minute, hasn't it?
I’ve been quiet...mostly because the best growth happens in the dark, away from the screen. But my inbox told a different story. To those of you who emailed, checked in, and asked where the next chapter of Offbeat Thoughts was: I hear you. I’m here. Special shoutout to the ones who sent long-form thoughts rather than just checking for a link...your depth is exactly why I keep writing. <3
I also saw the questions about why I’ve turned off the comments on my recent posts. The truth? Some thoughts are too raw for a public feed. I wanted to protect the energy of the space. But that doesn’t mean I’m not listening. My email is always open for those who want to share their own 'offbeat' stories. You’re always welcome in my DMs there.
Lately, I’ve been sitting with a feeling that’s hard to name. It’s that heavy, weird intuition we all try to ignore until it becomes too loud to drown out. It’s the realisation that some things aren't meant to be fixed, they’re just meant to be accepted.
Wolves, Monsters, And Reality
I’ve spent a lot of time calculating. Calculating reactions, calculating exits, calculating how much of myself I can give before I start to shrink.
We’re taught that acceptance is a soft approach. It’s a warm hug or a peaceful surrender. They tell you it’s about "letting go" like a balloon drifting into the sky. But they’re wrong. Real acceptance is sharp. It’s a surgical strike. It’s the moment you stop waiting for a monster to grow a heart and simply acknowledge that a wolf is a wolf.
There's a quiet, revolutionary strength in the act of acceptance. It’s not about favouring harmful actions or pretending difficult truths don't exist. But it's more about acknowledging things as they are, right now, with open eyes and a steady heart.
I used to look for water in people who were bone-dry. I’d stand there with my hands out, wondering why I was still thirsty. I thought if I stayed long enough, if I was "good" enough, the desert would change. That’s not hope. That’s a trap.
The power shift happens when you stop asking why and start seeing what. Often, we mistakenly believe that "accepting" something means we approve of it. No, honey, acceptance is the moment you say, "This is what is. This is who they are. And I will no longer let it define my peace."
Think about it:
- Accepting a person for who they are: flaws, complexities, and all. This kind of frees you from the exhausting cycle of trying to change them or being perpetually disappointed by their nature. It allows you to know the terrain so you don't keep tripping over the same stones.
- Accepting a past hurt doesn't mean the hurt disappears. It means you stop replaying the scene, hoping for a different ending. You acknowledge its impact, learn its lessons, and then consciously choose to close the book (i.e. lose its grip on your present).
Healing With Thorns: The Liberating Power of Release
To some, this might look cold. They might see you walk away from a "fragile" situation or a "hurting" person, and they may call you selfish. They may not be able to see the years you spent being the cushion for someone else’s thorns. But I’ll say, take being called "cold" over being burned alive, any day.
Release isn't a gift you give to the people who hurt you. They, of course, don't deserve that kind of power. Release is the final reclaim of your own narrative. It’s the moment you stop being the "hunted" and become the architect. You aren't "letting go" of them; you are letting go of the version of you that needed their validation to survive.
You aren't shrinking anymore. You’re just finally, loudly, unapologetically... clear. And once you’re clear, you’re untouchable.
The Verdict
If you’re looking for a "lesson", here it is:
Stop bleeding for people who enjoy the sight of blood. Acceptance is the moment you stop handing over your peace as a sacrifice for someone else's dysfunction. Lemme be a little blunt here. You don't owe anyone a front-row seat to your life while they’re still hiding a knife behind their back.
Your takeaway shouldn't be a soft heart; it should be a sharper eye. Accept who they are, not because they deserve to be understood, but because you deserve to stop being the one who breaks.
Let the bridges burn. The light will help you find your way out. ;-)
