Tag: self respect

What is one thing you would change about yourself?.. In My Own Words..

What is one thing you would change about yourself?

“The truth is simple.. I am done giving my whole heart to people who never came with their own.”

If there is one thing I would change about myself, it would be this. I would stop assuming that everyone carries a heart built like mine. I would stop handing out honesty like it’s a common language when, in truth, most people do not even know the alphabet of sincerity. I would stop covering for people who would never cover for me, stop protecting those who would gladly watch me bleed, stop being soft in a world that has proven again and again that softness is a luxury few deserve.

It sounds harsh, but it is the truth that life has hammered into me. I walk around believing that goodness is universal, that loyalty is instinctive, that when I shield people, they would shield me. But the reality is uglier, and far less poetic, some people will take everything I give, offer nothing in return, and still have the audacity to drive a knife straight into the jugular of my trust.

And the worst part?

I still try. I still give. I still hope.

If I could change one thing, it would be learning to reserve my goodness for places and people who have earned it. It would be understanding that compassion is a gift, not an obligation. That kindness without boundaries becomes self-destruction. That my heart is not a public resource.

I want to stop dimming my instincts just to keep toxic people comfortable.

I want to stop romanticising potential when reality is screaming.

I want to be wise enough to step back the moment someone shows me who they are, instead of giving them another chance to wound me deeper.

Changing this does not mean becoming cold, it means becoming selective. It means protecting my heart with the same intensity I have used to protect others. It means realising that being a good person does not require me to bleed for people who would not even lend me a bandage.

I deserve reciprocity. I deserve honesty. I deserve the same softness I give. And if I must change something, let it be this..

I will no longer spend my light on people who thrive in my darkness.

I will no longer shrink myself to fit the loyalty I never received.

I will be good, but naive no more.

I will be kind, but not at my own expense.

Because my heart is rare, and I finally understand that not everyone deserves access to it.

THE SECOND HALF OF MY LIFE BELONGS TO ME..

There comes a point in every woman’s life where survival stops being the goal and self-respect becomes the standard. A point where the battles I had fought, the storms I had walked through, and the wounds I had stitched shut with my bare hands became my evidence, proof that I did not survive hell just to tolerate what drains my spirit now.

I have crossed oceans of pain to get here.

I have walked through fire barefoot.

I have carried heartbreak, betrayal, disappointment, and the weight of responsibilities that nearly broke my back, yet here I stand.

So no, I will not apologise for protecting my peace.

I will not shrink myself to fit into places that cannot hold me.

And I will not pour into people who come with empty hands and entitled hearts.

I have learned the hard way that not everyone who had access deserved it. Some people only understood my giving, never my boundaries. Some loved the light I carried but contributed nothing to the flame. Some took and took and took… Then acted offended when I finally stopped bleeding for their comfort or selfish needs.

Forgiveness?

Yes, I have given that.

But forgetting?

No, now that is something I refuse to do. Not because I hold grudges, but because wisdom is born from remembrance. Forgetting would only make me vulnerable to repeating cycles that nearly destroyed me. I owe myself more than that.

This second half of my life will be lived with clarity, with intention, with self-love so strong it intimidates the version of me who once accepted crumbs. My boundaries are not walls, they are gates and I decide who gets the privilege of entering. I decide who gets my softness, my effort, my loyalty, my time. The access I give from here on will be earned, honoured, and never taken for granted again.

I am choosing me now, fully, unapologetically, consistently.

The woman I am becoming is no longer fueled by fear or longing for approval.

She is guided by experience, protected by self-respect, and powered by a heart that refuses to settle for less than what it deserves.

This is the second half of my life…

And I will live it for me. Not for what broke me. Not for what left me. Not for what drained me.

For me.. The woman who survived everything that was meant to destroy her… and decided she would rise anyway.

Doors slammed by disrespect.

Disrespect is not a fleeting storm, it is a scar etched into the architecture of trust. It does not whisper, it shouts, and it has a memory sharper than any apology. You can bend over backward, pour out regret, fall to your knees in remorse, but some doors, once slammed by disrespect, never swing open again. Not because we do not forgive, but because we learn. We learn to protect what is ours, to honor the boundaries of our worth, and to remember that not every bridge burned can, or should, be rebuilt.

Disrespect is permanent in its lesson, irreversible in its impact, and unyielding in its truth. It is the fire that reveals character, the mirror that exposes intent, the echo that lingers long after words have faded. To tolerate it once is a risk, to endure it repeatedly is a surrender of self. Every slight, every careless word, every action that diminishes another leaves a mark, sometimes invisible, sometimes jagged, but always real.

The irony is that apologies, no matter how heartfelt, cannot erase the weight of what has been done. They cannot rewind time or undo the erosion of trust. They can soothe, perhaps, they can acknowledge, but they cannot fully restore what has been deliberately disrespected. And so, the lesson is clear, respect is not negotiable, and once a line is crossed, some doors remain closed, not out of cruelty, but out of wisdom and self-preservation.

We carry the consequences of disrespect like armor, like a compass that guides us in relationships, in work, in life. It teaches us who is worthy of our time, who is capable of honoring us, and who is destined to linger outside the gates we build to safeguard our hearts. And in that, there is power, the power to choose, to guard, to rise above, and to never allow anyone to take for granted the sanctuary of your trust again.