My downfall in relationships has always been my need to believe in potential.
Let me be clear… I’m not here to tell you to “come healed.” Healing isn’t a trophy you earn or a box you check. It’s more like a tide that rolls in and out, sometimes calm, sometimes rough. I’ve grown up enough to know we’ve all been dealt some pretty wild hands in this game called life, hands that shape how we think, feel, and show up. None of us are perfect and honestly we’re all just figuring it out as we go.
But here’s the thing: there’s a difference between healing, and using your pain as a free pass to spill your mess on people who haven’t hurt you. Too many people wander through life lacking self-awareness, wrapped up in their own hurt, and forgetting that being a product of your past doesn’t excuse being closed off, selfish, or downright mean. We’ve all got our stories, but that doesn’t mean we let them run the show.
Growing up feeling like the black sheep, the runt of the litter, and the ugly step-sister, being truly understood has always meant the world to me- so I make it a point to understand others.
I want to know what makes you tick; why you act the way you do, what’s shaped your beliefs and fueled your choices. To understand, because I know there’s always more beneath the surface. To give the benefit of the doubt, to believe your actions aren’t the whole story but echoes of what you’ve been through. In less poetic terms, I want to help heal you. I want to believe in the potential of who you could be because accepting that some people are just not that great is a hard pill to swallow. Sometimes there’s no backstory, no excuse- and even when there is, it doesn’t change the outcome. Sometimes people are just their actions, and yeah, that really sucks.
Empathy is both my strength and my weakness. Because 9 times out of 10, I get it. And I feel for you.
Being an empath in relationships- whether platonic, romantic, or familial; can feel like both a blessing and a trap, especially when you see potential rather than reality. You see the light in people- the version they could become if they just tried, just chose better. And because you feel so deeply, it’s easy to confuse emotional connection with emotional responsibility.
Potential doesn’t equal progress. Loving someone for who they could be won’t change who they are right now. And when someone is unhealed or emotionally unstable, your empathy starts working against you. You become an emotional safety net, a therapist, a motivator- hoping that if you just love and support them enough, they’ll rise to meet the version of themselves you see.
Why do we try to rescue people? Surely not because we think we’re superheroes. But maybe because we genuinely want to help the people we care about. Maybe because there’s something intoxicating about being needed. Whatever reason, trying to save someone from themselves is like pouring water into a cup with no bottom. Exhausting, confusing, and never quite enough. It’s not our job to be someone’s lifeboat when we’re still learning how to swim. Your attempt to keep them afloat is drowning you.
The longer you wait for someone to grow, the more you shrink. You ignore red flags. You rationalize the chaos. You convince yourself the pain justifies the pattern. And slowly, your boundaries blur. Your peace fades. Your needs take a backseat to their wounds. You lose yourself.
Empathy is powerful, but without boundaries, it becomes self-abandonment. You can care deeply, love whole-heartedly; and still leave situations that don’t serve you.
Learning to put yourself first; not in a selfish way, but in a self-honoring way, is a non-negotiable. Your peace, your boundaries, your emotional safety- is a priority. You’re allowed to walk away from someone who drains you, even if they’re struggling. You’re allowed to choose yourself. You’re allowed to set limits.
Boundaries aren’t walls, they’re protection. They keep your empathy from turning into self-sacrifice. They help you stay grounded in reality. Because at the end of the day, it’s not your job to heal wounds you didn’t create. It’s your job to protect your heart, trust your intuition, and build a life where your love is met, not drained.
There’s something quietly heartbreaking about watching the soft ones harden. When you’ve been hurt, disrespected, or used, it’s almost second nature to want to match that energy. But every time I tried to hand out what I was given, it left me unsettled. Like I was stepping out of alignment with myself. It just didn’t feel right, because that’s not who I want to show up as in this world. There doesn’t need to be more people who don’t give a shit.
Bitterness isn’t strength. Losing your spark to prove a point isn’t healing. Keeping your softness in a world that’s dared you to toughen up? That’s the real flex.
You can have all the empathy in the world for someone… see their pain, understand their story, even trace back every reason as to why they are the way they are- and still stand firm in saying, I don’t need to carry that with me. That’s your path to walk, not mine. Understanding doesn’t mean excusing, and compassion doesn’t mean abandoning your own sense of truth.
Empathy should never equate to having no backbone. You can be gentle and still stand tall. You can love deeply and still say no when something doesn’t feel right.
Your softness is powerful, and your boundaries are the armor that keep that power safe.
