I've been thinking a lot about radical acceptance lately. I read a piece that described how difficult it can be to walk away from unsafe situations, even when leaving is the healthiest choice. That line stayed with me because it reflected something I've struggled with for years.

My nervous system reacts intensely whenever I distance myself from people or environments that no longer feel safe. Even when the decision is right, something inside me tightens — as though choosing myself is an act of betrayal.

Recently, I found myself thinking about a friend I haven't spoken to in a long time. Every time I go home to East London, I tell myself, "This time, I will call everyone. I will arrange the catch-up sessions. I will buy the food, the drinks, the comfort." Not because I have the time or capacity, but because I am the one who always initiates.

It's only when I paused that I recognized a familiar pattern:

I have spent years trying to earn connection.

I never questioned why I felt responsible for maintaining friendships where effort was one-sided. I told myself it was generosity or maturity. But if I'm honest, it often felt like I was buying companionship. It always seemed like if I didn't put in effort — or didn't give something — people would leave. And I have never been okay with people leaving.

The Realisation

When I stopped using WhatsApp, everything became clearer. Without constant access to me, or my energy, I saw who actively chose to remain present in my life. It was a quiet but powerful revelation. I saw the difference between being responsible in friendships and carrying them alone.

I also saw how often I overcommit, how easily I say yes even when I am stretched thin, how impossible "no" has felt to me. I have been afraid of disappointing people. Afraid of seeming unavailable. Afraid of being forgotten.

But I am unlearning this. Slowly. Deliberately.

I'm learning to first ask myself:

"Do I actually want this?"

And if I cannot give honestly, I do not give at all.

Reclaiming Myself

One of the most healing shifts I've made is addressing things immediately instead of letting them weigh on me. This is new for me. This is uncomfortable for me. But it allows me to show up with clarity rather than anxiety, from choice rather than obligation.

Because for much of my life, I participated more in other people's lives than in my own. I gave attention outward — maintaining harmony, managing impressions, playing peacekeeper. I learned to be reliable by abandoning my own needs. And over time, that turned into resentment — soft, quiet resentment that gathered like dust in the corners of my life.

The Turning Point

In February 2025, I made a decision to redirect my energy inward. I thought I needed therapy to begin that process. Instead, I realized that change began with something simpler and more immediate: action. The shift wasn't grand or dramatic — it was a daily practice of choosing myself in small ways.

Now, a year later, I can finally acknowledge my progress without hesitation. I feel myself growing into someone I'm proud of.

At the same time, I am navigating loss. A project I poured myself into for six months was recently discontinued, leaving me unsure of who I am within my organization. I had wrapped my identity tightly around that project, believing my worth was tied to how indispensable I was. Its ending forced me to sit with a difficult truth: I have always defined myself through what I do for others.

What I'm Learning

Despite the discomfort, I am becoming someone healthier and stronger. I am gaining emotional awareness. I am learning to set financial boundaries based on intention, not urgency. I am redefining what stability means — emotionally, socially, professionally.

And then I read The Hunger to Be Everything, and suddenly there was language for what I have been living.

odetoapoet on Substack The Hunger to Be Everything Read on Substack

It spoke about the cost of trying to be indispensable, endlessly accommodating, perpetually available. It reminded me that choosing myself is not withdrawing — it is returning.

And another piece I read said something I haven't been able to forget:

"We are not designed to be our own only witness."

goranshbharal on Substack Every Little Spark of Happiness Aches Read on Substack

Those words softened something inside me. They helped me understand why I long for companionship that is mutual, safe, and emotionally generous. Not to escape myself, but to let happiness live in more than one heart.

Where I Am Now

I am learning how to stay present with myself without abandoning others — and to stay present with others without abandoning myself.

I am learning that love is not proven through self-sacrifice.

That friendship is not earned through overextension.

That my worth is not measured by how many people I keep from leaving.

This is my first lesson of becoming:
Choosing myself is not the end of connection.
It is the beginning of honest relationships.