Rolling with the punches: To move away from an opponent's blows to lessen the force of impact.
"When it happens... you find out who your real friends are..."
I've always been skeptical about that phrase, wondering if the reality truly is about abandonment, or if it is a misinterpretation of intentions.
We give love the way we want to receive it.
During times of chaos or despair, our well-meaning friends may not know how to help pick up the pieces. They may fear they'll cut themselves in the process.
Or maybe they're too busy picking up their own, wondering why you aren't on your knees with them.
How could you be? Can't they see you're already scraped up and bruised with your own shattered glass? And dang it, the dustpan keeps spilling. While you're sweeping from all angles, you're not realizing their dustpan is overflowing. It's not abandonment, its unawareness.
Or maybe... they're not purposely choosing to leave you in solitude on your darkest days. Maybe they're just standing on the other side holding the flashlight. Waiting for you to decide to step through that door and help light the way.
There’s a difference between being abandoned by a shitty person and having boundaries set by a person who loves you and wants the best for you.
There's a difference between rolling with the punches and being a punching bag.
There's a difference between loving with attachment and loving from a distance.
The amount of love can still be equal. The perception is up to the beholder.
"When it happens... you find out who your real friends are..."
I've always been skeptical about that phrase, wondering if the reality truly is about abandonment, or if it is a misinterpretation of intentions.
We give love the way we want to receive it.
During times of chaos or despair, our well-meaning friends may not know how to help pick up the pieces. They may fear they'll cut themselves in the process.
Or maybe they're too busy picking up their own, wondering why you aren't on your knees with them.
How could you be? Can't they see you're already scraped up and bruised with your own shattered glass? And dang it, the dustpan keeps spilling. While you're sweeping from all angles, you're not realizing their dustpan is overflowing. It's not abandonment, its unawareness.
Or maybe... they're not purposely choosing to leave you in solitude on your darkest days. Maybe they're just standing on the other side holding the flashlight. Waiting for you to decide to step through that door and help light the way.
There’s a difference between being abandoned by a shitty person and having boundaries set by a person who loves you and wants the best for you.
There's a difference between rolling with the punches and being a punching bag.
There's a difference between loving with attachment and loving from a distance.
The amount of love can still be equal. The perception is up to the beholder.
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