You Can Understand Someone and Still Choose Yourself

For those of us who are natural fixers, there's something incredibly difficult about stepping back and trusting that someone we love will eventually figure things out.

We want them to see what we see. Understand what we understand. Make the changes we know could make a difference.

And if we're being truthful, sometimes we think that if we just explain it one more time, approach it a little differently, or love them a little harder, something will finally click.

But here's what I've learned.

We can influence someone else's journey, but we cannot control their willingness to grow.

And that's a tough one.

Especially when their choices affect our emotional well-being, our relationships, and sometimes our everyday lives.

I remember when my late husband, Jacques, relapsed after years of sobriety.

It rocked my world. And not just emotionally, but in the day-to-day reality of our lives.

I remember thinking, Who is this person? 

It felt so foreign to me, creating this unsettling cognitive dissonance between the man I knew and loved and the person I was experiencing right in front of me.

I could recognize his pain. I understood that he was struggling. And I had a ton of compassion yet that didn't make what was happening any less painful or confusing for me.

For much of that year, I felt like I was navigating unfamiliar territory without a map.

While I found tremendous value in the support of therapists and coaches during that time, I chose to keep what was happening largely private from the people in my everyday life. It was what felt right for me at the time, but it also added another layer of isolation to an already difficult experience.

At the time, I was so focused on navigating what was happening with him that I didn't always recognize what was happening within me.

Looking back, I've learned so much about boundaries, emotional safety, and the difference between supporting someone and trying to manage their healing.

Would I navigate certain things differently today? Absolutely.

But I'm not interested in playing Monday morning quarterback with a version of myself who was doing the best she could with what she knew at the time.

You know what you know until you know something different.

And that's where growth happens.

I've come to understand that releasing our grip on the outcome doesn't mean we stop loving, caring, or hoping.

It means we begin recognizing what belongs to us and what doesn't.

We establish guardrails around what is healthy and acceptable in our lives.

We stop confusing compassion with permission.

And perhaps most importantly, we begin taking responsibility for our own emotional well-being rather than waiting for someone else to change before we can feel okay.

Like anything else, it takes practice.

It's building muscle, developing awareness and learning to become a better caretaker of your own mental and emotional health.

Because if your peace depends entirely on someone else finally "getting it," you may find yourself losing pieces of who you are while you wait.

And no, this doesn't automatically mean abandoning the relationship. Sometimes relationships can heal and grow when healthier boundaries are established. It can absolutely happen. 

And sometimes, creating distance is what we need to protect our own well-being.

The point isn't to control the outcome.

It's to stop abandoning yourself while hoping for a different one.

Something to reflect on this week:

Where might you be holding on so tightly to someone else's growth that you've stopped tending to your own?

With love,

Francine