Prune. Weed. Shed.
What's working and what's not?
When was the last time you reevaluated the company you're keeping in your life? How often are you taking inventory of how you're changing and growing—what's working and what's not? Have you recently looked at how your relationships are shifting (for the better or worse)? All of these questions have been front and center for me, and the answers to some haven't been easy to reckon with.
In life, we can find ourselves in the roles of caregivers, nurturers, and supporters. We offer so much of ourselves to others, pouring our love, care, and attention into their lives. For those of us who value deep connection and support, we celebrate the successes of those around us. We gladly uplift folks near and dear to our hearts and take pride in showing them unwavering support. It's a beautiful quality to have, one that deepens our connections—but amidst all this, many of us can find ourselves not being cared for or held in the same way. This is what I'm working through currently, and it's layered. When we achieve something meaningful, whether a personal goal, a small milestone, or a moment of profound growth, we naturally want to share that joy with others. We hope that those closest to us will be as happy for us as we are for them—but what I've realized over the years is that standing in joy with someone else isn't always something people can do with ease.
As disheartening as this can be, lately, I've been focusing more on recognizing and appreciating the people who can truly see me—those who consistently demonstrate that they value me as much as I value them. These are the individuals that I can (and want to) show up in joy with authentically and create reciprocal relationships with, free from ambiguity or emotional guessing games. Focusing more on who I do have—rather than who I don't—shines a light on the connections I want to continue growing and those I'm okay with no longer nurturing. Taking inventory of my relationships has made a lot of things more evident. Paying closer attention to the people I allow into my circle and space is helping me find clarity about what I need and want in relationships.
When it comes to deepening bonds with others, what means the most to me are the people who make it evident that I am an important part of their lives, just as they are in mine. I spent many years trying to figure out where I fit in certain people's worlds—often going beyond, only to recognize deep misalignment. The lack of clarity, even when blatantly asking for it, is overwhelming, destabilizing, and disappointing. We all want to know—bones deep—that we're loved, considered, and cared for.
In this life, it's important that we are connected to people who remind us, with their actions, that we belong. As an adult with the power to choose where I invest my time, energy, and effort, I've become extremely clear about what I'm no longer willing to do or participate in.
As I step into this next chapter of life, I am no longer carrying the weight of the relationships I'm in. My bandwidth and capacity have changed. I don't have the space, energy, or time to continue being the only one making efforts to connect physically or emotionally.
The older we get, the more necessary it is for us to prune, weed, and shed the connections that are not connecting.
Something to remember on this path is: Stay close to people who want to see you win. Not just the ones who say they do but the ones who show it.
I literally just texted a relatively new friend, with this observation - my circle is changing and includes some new folks---for a time such as this. And I am thankful for my legacy friends and the new ones on the come up. I accept that my friendships will not always carry the same energy, weight, or importance over the duration of a friendship. I'm falling back. By releasing some of these (stale) pre-existing friendships, I have made room for new friendships. Ones that will buoy me through the current season of life.
It was a tough realization. A necessary realization. And I am thankful for it.
I'm glad I'm not the only one standing in the garden of my friendships, pruning shears in hand. Sending my love to anyone else experiencing this right now. It's not easy, but deeply trusting the prune is worth the space it creates for the bloom. x