You Can Love Someone and Still…

When loving someone doesn’t mean losing yourself.

Sometimes love doesn't mean you have to stay.

I think one of the hardest things to accept about people is that you can genuinely love someone and still not want them in your life anymore.

And honestly? That feels so wrong sometimes.

Because we're taught that when you love someone, you fight for them. You stay. You forgive. You try again. You don't give up easily.

So what happens when you've tried?

What happens when you have forgiven them more times than you can count, had the same conversation over and over again, and somehow you're still ending up hurt?

At what point does loving someone stop being love and start becoming you abandoning yourself?

I don't think we talk about that enough.

You can love someone and still be angry at them. Like, genuinely angry. Not the cute kind of angry where you expect them to text you and make everything better. I mean the kind where you look at them and think, How could you do that to me?

And you can love someone while admitting that they hurt you.

You don't have to pretend something didn't happen just because you love the person who did it.

You can also love someone and need space from them.

That one is hard.

Because sometimes people think distance means you hate them. It doesn't always.

Sometimes you just need to breathe without constantly wondering what mood someone is going to be in.

Sometimes you need to hear your own thoughts again.

Sometimes you need to stop explaining why something hurt you.

And sometimes, you simply realise that being around someone you love is costing you too much peace.

That's a painful realization.

Because imagine loving somebody and still knowing that you are better off without them.

There doesn't have to be some dramatic betrayal. Sometimes nobody cheated. Nobody did anything that would make a good movie plot.

Sometimes two people just aren't good for each other anymore.

Sometimes you keep becoming smaller in the relationship.

Sometimes you are always understanding, always patient, always making excuses, always saying, "Maybe they'll change."

And eventually you realise you've spent so much time understanding someone else that you stopped understanding yourself.

That's scary.

And I think this is where boundaries become important.

A boundary isn't, "I don't love you anymore."

Sometimes it's simply, "I love you, but I can't keep allowing this."

There is a difference.

You can forgive somebody and still not give them the same access to you.

You can wish someone well and still not want to know what they're doing every day.

You can miss someone and still know that going back would be a terrible idea.

You can remember the good parts without forgetting the bad ones.

And maybe that's what growing up actually looks like sometimes—learning that people don't have to be completely terrible for you to leave them.

Someone can be good to you in some ways and still be wrong for you.

Someone can love you and still not know how to love you properly.

Someone can mean well and still hurt you.

And you can love someone deeply while also admitting, "This isn't working for me anymore."

I wish more people understood that.

Because sometimes we get so obsessed with asking, "Does this person love me?"

But maybe we should also ask:

"How do I feel when I'm loved by this person?"

Do I feel safe?

Do I feel heard?

Do I feel respected?

Do I feel like I can be myself?

Or am I constantly anxious, confused, insecure and exhausted?

Because love is a feeling, but relationships are built through actions.

And I don't want to romanticise suffering anymore.

I don't want to believe that being hurt repeatedly is proof that I love someone deeply.

It isn't.

Sometimes leaving is not giving up.

Sometimes leaving is finally listening to yourself.

And choosing yourself doesn't mean you suddenly stop caring.

That's the part nobody tells you.

You might still miss them.

You might still think about them.

You might even have moments where you wish things had worked out differently.

That's normal.

Healing doesn't always look like waking up one morning and feeling absolutely nothing.

Sometimes healing is missing someone and not texting them.

Sometimes it's remembering what happened without rewriting the story just because you feel lonely.

Sometimes it's accepting that you can love the person you knew while accepting that you can't continue with the person they've become.

And maybe that's okay.

Maybe not every person we love is supposed to stay forever.

Some people stay for years.

Some stay for a season.

Some teach us things we never wanted to learn.

Some break our hearts.

Some help put the pieces back together.

And some relationships simply reach their end.

That doesn't make the love fake.

It just means the relationship ended.

I think there's something strangely beautiful about being able to say:

"You mattered to me. I loved you. I probably always will in some little corner of my heart. But I cannot keep hurting myself just to keep you in my life."

That's not hatred.

That's not bitterness.

That's acceptance.

And maybe that's what I want us to understand.

You don't have to hate someone before you're allowed to leave them.

You don't need a villain.

You don't need a dramatic ending.

You don't even need everyone else to understand why you left.

Sometimes you just know.

And sometimes knowing that something is hurting you is enough reason to stop holding it so tightly.

So yes, I believe you can love someone and still walk away.

You can love someone and still choose peace.

You can love someone and still say no.

You can love someone and still have boundaries.

You can love someone and still realise that you deserve better.

And you can love someone...

while finally learning how to love yourself too.

And you can love me and subscribe to me