the life i prayed for didn’t look like this…

Mannn…

before we get started, let me ask yall something.

Have yall ever prayed for a new season, finally got it, and then looked around like..."Wait...what the fuck is it?"

It’s like you are grateful, blessed, hell filled with pure unexplainable joy. You know exactly what you prayed for. You prayed for peace. Healthier relationships. The better job. The passion project. A new hobby. The courage to stop settling for people and situations that required you to abandon yourself just to keep the relationship alive. You prayed to be free from cycles and trauma you didn't create but somehow became responsible for carrying. And the crazy part? God answered. Not only did He answer, He answered abundantly. My problem was...He answered differently than the movie I had already written in my head. How dare he?

See, I thought peace was going to feel louder. I thought I'd wake up every morning feeling lighter, smiling a little harder (even though i smile so damn hard already iykyk,) walking around like one of those people in stock photos who somehow look happy grocery shopping and shit. Instead, peace has been...too damn quiet. And if I'm being completely honest, sometimes it's been lonely. Maybe that's because nobody really talks about what happens after the boundary. After the prayer is answered. After you’ve actually arrive.

Everybody loves telling you to protect your peace. (a buzz phrase that honestly has been getting on my nerves btw) Set the boundary. Break the generational curse. Build the legacy. Cut them off. Choose yourself. Blah blah blah. You can scroll social media for five minutes and hear somebody tell you to stop giving people access to you. Cool. Great! whatever that fucking means type of advice. But what nobody prepares you for is the empty space those decisions that you have made leave behind.

Over the past year, I've had to make some of the hardest decisions of my life. Not 1 but 3 friendships I never though would end finally did, been no contact with my momma, and broke off a relationship that if I had not, i would be in a orange jumpsuit. ( cant do that because they dont even serve crawfish in jail.) and babyyy those weren't dramatic, overnight decisions. Those were years of praying, hoping, extending grace, questioning myself, trying again, crying, forgiving, and finally accepting that love and access are not the same thing. That realization broke something in me, but I think it also healed something. Or at least was trying to..

I wrote in another blog that grief isn't always about losing a person. Sometimes you're grieving the relationship you deserved but never got. You're grieving the apology that never came. You’re grieving the jo you’re were denied. You're grieving the version of someone you kept believing would show up if you just loved them a little harder or waited a little longer. We don't just grieve people. We grieve possibilities. We grieve future lives, choices, or what our experiences will be in a positive life, but we dont really get into what happens after if what you envisioned isn’t in front of you and its NOT bad. I don't think I realized until recently that I wasn't just grieving relationships. I was grieving familiarity.

Chaos, trauma, and unspoken pain had become familiar. Overexplaining myself had become familiar. Being the one who always reached back out had become familiar. Carrying emotional responsibilities that didn't belong to me had become familiar. So when I finally put those things down, I expected to immediately feel free. Instead, I felt...empty. what the fuck was this about? How did I arrive to a place i prayed so hard to be and be freed from, and oonce I arrive, I didn etven know what to do? what the hell.

And maybe that's the part we don't say out loud enough.

What if healing doesn't feel like happiness at first? What if it feels like an empty room? I've had nights where I've questioned everything. Am I protecting my peace, or am I becoming difficult? Why does this feel like im further from what feel good, and this shit feel awful? Am I honoring myself, or am I becoming the villain in somebody else's story? Have I become too guarded, or have I finally learned that not everyone deserves unlimited access to me? Was this what I prayed for? Cause surely God heard my prayers wrong, which is hard to believe because i KNOW he heard how loud i talked.

Here's what loneliness doesn't tell you. Loneliness has a way of romanticizing the very things that broke us. It'll edit the story. It'll mute the manipulation. It'll soften the disrespect. It'll highlight the good ahirwhile conveniently skipping over the nights you cried yourself to sleep.. It'll have you missing people who consistently hurt you simply because being lonely feels unfamiliar. It'll convince you that maybe it wasn't that bad. Maybe you overreacted. Maybe you should call. Maybe you should text. Maybe you should continue doing the things family, friends and other parties do because its just the norm. Surely im the odd ball right? Maybe you should just let it go. and im here to tell you dont believe that shit, stay gone.

Then one day on one of my long walks, I asked myself a different question.

If I invited everything back into my life because I missed it, would there actually be room for the life I've been praying for? The answer was no. a silent but unquestionable no.

Because I think we're so afraid of empty space that we rush to fill it. We fill it honestly with bullshit. Old relationships, old habits, old conversations, old versions of ourselves, simply because they feel familiar. We mistake familiar for safe, and those two things couldn't be more different.

Maybe the empty space isn't something to fear. Maybe it's evidence that you're finally making room. Room for healthier friendships that don't require you to shrink. Room for love that feels safe instead of confusing. Room for peace that doesn't disappear every time your phone rings. Room for the woman you're becoming instead of the woman everyone got comfortable with. Room for the seasons you need no instructions on how to pivot. For once, the rules are yours to make…or even break.

I'm still learning this. There are days I miss people. There are days I wonder how my name comes up in rooms I'll never enter again. There are days I wonder if someone else's version of me makes me sound like the villain. And honestly? Maybe I am in their story. and honestly, i dont even give a fuck.

But I've also learned that being the villain in someone else's version of events doesn't automatically make you wrong. Sometimes people have to make you the bad guy because it's easier than admitting they benefited from a version of you that no longer exists. And two things can be true.

All in all, the truth is, the life I prayed for requires empty but safe space. Not because God enjoys taking things i once and still may love away, but because some things simply cannot grow in rooms that are already overcrowded. Every answered prayer doesn't arrive with something added. Sometimes it arrives with something removed.

So if you're standing in a season that feels quieter than the last one, don't rush to fill it just because silence makes you uncomfortable.

Because maybe the life you've been praying for has been waiting on one thing all along.

Room.

Room that couldn't exist until you stopped dragging old baggage into new seasons. Room that couldn't exist until you accepted that some people can be loved from a distance. Room that couldn't exist until you stopped confusing familiar with safe.

So no...don't let loneliness, past experiences, challenges, and trauma rewrite the reason you left.

You prayed for this life.

Now stay long enough to enjoy it. Because I know I will.

xoxo

sho