The most interesting part of writing isn't publishing the article. It's discovering what everyone else thinks the article was about.

A few weeks ago, I wrote about my experience as a “wicked stepthing."

In my mind, the article was about infertility.

More specifically, it was about what it feels like to desperately want a child while helping raise somebody else's.

That was the part that made me uncomfortable.  THAT’S the part I almost deleted.

Then…the comments started coming in and almost nobody talked about infertility!  Instead, people kept saying the same thing: "thank you for staying."

Wait...WHAT? 

Staying???

THAT wasn't the story (at least not in my mind).   “Staying” never felt particularly remarkable to me.  Yet somehow, it did to everyone else.  

Once upon a time, “staying” was the boring part of the story.  Nobody gave out trophies because you worked through a rough patch or congratulated your emotional maturity for having a difficult conversation instead of storming out.

It was just what people did.

Which makes me wonder when "staying" became the surprising ending. And more importantly… why?

We've become so accustomed to evaluating relationships through the lens of personal fulfillment that the moment one becomes frustrating, disappointing, inconvenient, or uncomfortable we start reassessing whether it still belongs in our lives.  We even have a phrase for it now: “protect your peace”.

A friend disappoints you: protect your peace.

A family member hurts your feelings: protect your peace.

A conversation becomes uncomfortable: protect your peace.

Your coworker challenges you: protect your peace.

Somewhere along the way, we stopped asking, "is this relationship worth fighting for?" and started asking, "what am I getting out of this?"  The result is a culture where relationships are treated like subscriptions.  The moment they stop meeting our needs, we start looking for the cancel button.

And before I move on, let me clarify something.  This is not an attack on therapy or an argument against boundaries. And it is certainly not a suggestion that people remain in abusive or harmful situations.  

Some relationships absolutely need to end.  Some people absolutely need to leave.  

This article isn't about those situations. It's about alllllllllllllllllllllll the others. 

The ordinary relationships that become difficult simply because there are actual human beings involved. 

People with flaws and bad habits and insecurities and blind spots.  People who say the wrong thing.  People who disappoint us. 

In other words….REAL PEOPLE.

If relationships were contracts, most of us would never sign them because the terms are ridiculous.

You’re agreeing to love people who will absolutely disappoint you, invest in people who won't always appreciate it, and forgive things that never should have happened in the first place.

It's a TERRIBLE contract!

Which is why love was never supposed TO BE a contract; it's a commitment. And, commitments occasionally cost something. 

Social media celebrates boundaries. It celebrates cutting ties. It celebrates choosing YOURSELF.  What it rarely celebrates is the quiet, unremarkable decision to stay.

Again, NOT staying in abuse.

Staying in the uncomfortable space where imperfect people are trying and failing and trying again.

Loving people IS hard. It always has been. But sometimes the relationship is worth more than the discomfort.  Sometimes the answer isn’t walking away, it’s having the hard conversation or extending the grace.  

If I had walked away every time a relationship became uncomfortable, some of the people I love most wouldn't be in my life today.  Because every one of those relationships eventually asked something of me that I wasn’t particularly excited to give. 

But, they were still worth fighting for.

Perhaps, before we walk away from another uncomfortable situation, we should ask ourselves one more question:

Are we protecting our peace? Or are we protecting ourselves from the ordinary discomfort that comes with loving imperfect people?

Because peace and comfort are not the same thing.

One creates healthy boundaries.  The other creates a life where fewer and fewer people can disappoint us.  Which sounds amazing until you realize fewer and fewer people can get close enough to matter, either.

And my fear is that eventually, we will find ourselves sitting alone in a room full of perfectly protected peace…wondering where everybody went.

If this content resonated with you, connect with Tiffani on Substack!

https://thedhoogeden.substack.com/

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