Don’t Get Tricked Out of Your Spot
On trusting your knowing when others flirt with your doubt
Years ago, I shared a dating story with my mother. Keep in mind that woman is more excited for her future grandchildren than I am.
I had just politely ended things with a man I’d been seeing, quickly shared the story, and moved right along to the next topic. She interrupted, “But Ry, didn’t you say he did (she proceeds to list the things Mr. No Name did right), don’t let (she proceeds to list the things Mr. No Name did wrong) make you forget all the good things.”
I instantly felt resistance in my chest, reaching for the glass of water beside me. I still had the text thread up on my phone as I read the encounter to her. Was she right? Was I doing too much? Was there time to send an apology?
Then I remembered my script.
Thank you, God, for creating this exceptional human.
Just what I needed. Just what I deserved.
Every conversation leaves my brain pulsing, like a stimulated heartbeat: wanting more, learning more, yearning more.
Thank you, God.
Whenever I am in the presence of this exceptional human, safety comforts me like a heated blanket: physically, emotionally, mentally.
This exceptional human didn’t have to match my meticulousness, but it is respected. Thank you, God.
This exceptional human honors me as a muse. His light brightens mine, my light brightens his.
Faithful.
Loyal.
Thank you, God.
The beast to my beauty, with a soul as gentle as mine.
Thank you, God.
If I were stranded alone in a forest and had to choose between a man or a bear, I’d always choose the bear, but he proves that I could choose him.
Thank you, God, for creating this exceptional human.
I set the glass down, closed out the open text thread on my phone, and started laughing. “Thanks, Mom. Did you eat dinner yet?” I responded. As quickly as I moved on, she was encouraged to move on too.
I already knew Mr. No Name wasn’t for me, and this particular red flag signaled we were simply not a fit, but I almost allowed someone else’s words, though they absolutely meant well, to trick me into forgetting who I was and the things I desired.
Later that night, as I lay under my cozy duvet, I’m reminded of the comfort that exists because I created it. Briefly thinking back to the conversation with my mom, I appreciated the care that lay beneath her tone, while also acknowledging that I almost retreated back to an old identity. I am so proud of my ability to ground myself in my current reality. I exhaled, though I know it doesn’t make sense to her, I’m okay with the idea that it doesn’t have to. It only has to make sense to me.
Don’t let someone’s “but” shatter your clarity.
I am a goddess, baby. I know this. And there’s no way on Earth I’m willing to accept anything less than I deserve.
And my God, how sacred it is when a woman knows who she is and exactly what she deserves.
Sometimes adding too many voices in a conversation that was meant for just you and your higher self, for just you and God, becomes self-abandonment disguised as humility.
Your I AM is yours to protect. And it will be tested from every direction, with love by people who love you, and without love by platforms that don’t know you exist.
Sharing my writing and then silence from those I know almost tricked me out of doing what I love.
The pressure to constantly produce with social media’s algorithm almost tricked me out of sharing what God put on my heart, for the people that were meant to receive it.
Expressing my gut feelings, hoping people would understand, almost tricked me out of trusting myself.
If you received the desire, why are you consulting others just to get validation from them, when they don’t have the knowing about you that you do?
I AM who I say I AM.
I stopped letting people flirt with my doubt and started flirting with my own knowing instead.
I already know, and I refuse to get tricked out of my spot.
For more gentle reminders on self-love, check out my self-care workbook, Creating Your Chapter Harmony: A Guided Journey to Manifest the Life You Deserve.