severing relationships

The Fear of Being Alone

When I moved from NYC to California, I was confronted with one of my fears: being alone.

Being alone meant sitting with my thoughts, feelings, insecurities, fears, heartbreak, and trauma from the past; the things I didn’t want to process because I knew it’d painful and uncomfortable.

So, I avoided it by being in relationships.

I was that person who jumped from one relationship to the next without giving myself space to process the severing of the last one.

^ not the best decision, because what happens is you carry the trash from the last relationship into the next and create a mess.

And because I jumped into relationships, I was basically saying, “I know we just met and I don’t really know you yet, but you give me attention and check *some* of my boxes... so uh, yeah, let’s be an exclusive thing?!”

I was settling and finding myself in unfulfilling partnerships. I’d either be with someone I only *kinda* liked. Or, I’d be in toxic relationships (the toxicity sometimes created by my own shit), because that pain was familiar and more comfortable than facing the unfamiliar pain of being alone.

But then, I moved across the country to live in an empty space, with my empty heart. And sure, I could’ve numbed with distractions that weren’t people, but I decided to explore what I habitually escaped from. To get curious about it and ask myself why I was afraid of it.

And so I did. And it was hard. And it brought up A LOT of shit. And I cried myself to sleep almost every single night for a month straight.

And...
...I lived.

Because pain is ephemeral.

This process taught me the importance of being alone and how to do it, but it also taught me to stop running away from my pain.

Pain is one of your greatest teachers and growth usually comes from the lowest places in your life.

And fuuuck. I came out wiser, stronger, and happier than ever before. Oh, and I discovered how much I actually love being alone.

My challenge for you is to ask: what pain am I running away from and why? Stop resisting and start exploring. Get curious, because there’s lessons in the pain⚡️

xx

Devi

Getting Out of An Abusive Relationship

“You’re not stuck here. You’re choosing to stay here.” A rude awakening to say the least. These were the exact words I said to myself when I found myself in an abusive relationship.

We don’t walk into a partnership with someone knowing they’re going to abuse us. In the beginning, even with an abuser, it’s beautiful and they treat you beautifully. Being with them makes you feel like pure ecstasy is running through your body. You’re beaming with love and excitement and happiness.

But, somewhere down the line, when people get 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 comfortable—they take off their masks. And sometimes, underneath that it isn’t so pretty.

I’ve grown up watching people who are close to me be in abusive relationships. You would think I would know if I was in one. However, for the longest time, I didn’t... but perhaps, that’s because it was a different type of abuse.

Many of us, including myself for a while, have this erroneous assumption that abuse is only physical. But it’s not. It can be verbal and emotional.

𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞: manipulation, control, gaslighting, intimidation, humiliation, treating you like a servant and putting most responsibilities on you, keeping you from work, making threats to hurt themself, smashing or destroying things, making you feel afraid and unsafe.

And... when do call them out, they’ll try to justify it. They’ll minimize or deny or blame the behavior on you.

You stay, because well for starters, they’re really good at changing your mind. They change the narrative to change your mind, perpetually. But also, it’s either a familiar cycle from your past or because you’re in love. Because you’re so far invested. Because you see changes in them, and when you see those slivers of change—it gives you hope.

I’ve been in two abusive relationships and I know how hard it is to leave. Especially when they feed you all the poetic bullshit, like: You’re the only one who gets me, understands me, knows how to show up for me. You make me feel safe, seen, and heard. You’re special. You’re not like anyone else. I’m doing my best to change and break my patterns. Please don’t give up on me.

Here’s the thing: abusers say they’re going to change. And they do...for awhile, until they don’t. Until they have you back in their grips, and then they repeat the same patterns and behaviors...over and over again.

That’s how part of the cycle works.

If you’re in an abusive relationship, I want you to know it doesn’t mean you’re weak. You’re likely a deeply compassionate and understanding individual. You feel for them and want to help them.

But also know: it’s not your job to fix them, it’s theirs. Their job. Their work. Their responsibility.

You’ve done enough. You’ve had enough.

There’s a way out. I promise. You’re not stuck. Leaving is hard—trust me, I know—but staying is even harder.

Please don’t let them convince you otherwise. You deserve so much more than this. There’s other options waiting for you.

You are self-sourced, independent, resourceful, and capable of taking care of yourself.

You are worth so much more than what they’ll ever give you. You deserve to be treated like the god damn queen that you are.

You’ve got this, babe. I believe in you.

Tears on Christmas

“𝑰𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒉𝒆’𝒔 𝒈𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒆?” I think to myself. Anxiously waiting by my phone hoping to hear a ring...to hear his voice.

As the hours pass by, the hope dissipates and my answer is clear. He isn’t going to call me.

A harsh reality I have to accept every single year.

This holiday is terribly triggering. The absence of my father brings heartache and pain and resentment and frustration and all these unresolved questions I’ve been pondering for years now.

As I sit here on my very first Christmas in complete solitude—the loneliness is weighing heavy on me. Not necessarily because I’m isolated, but because there are no distractions to keep my head space preoccupied.

I’m alone and being alone opens up more space to think about him. I’m not just thinking about him calling, I’m thinking about everything that involves him. I’ve been crying on and off—which isn’t unusual for me—but it’s more tears than usual.

It really fucking hurts.

I share this because this holiday might be hard for you, too. I know there’s nothing I could possibly say to take the pain away, but I do want you to know you’re not alone.

I see you. I feel you. I understand how hard this day can be for you. It’s not going to feel okay, and that is okay. Your experience and your feelings are completely valid.

I love you. I’m here for you if you need me.

Devi

Severing Friendships As You Evolve

Like the moon, you will transform with each phase you go through. And there will be someone in your life—someone you even consider your closest and longest friend—who will absolutely hate your transformation.

The will shame you, judge you, reject you, and tell you your new way of being is “wrong.”

But it’s not. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵.

Different from what you once were, and that’s okay. You’re supposed to change—that’s concomitant with age, pain, lessons, experiences, and all the other various things in life that shift you.

Your beliefs, values, likes, dislikes, and views will evolve into something slightly or entirely new. And sometimes the newness will make or break a relationship, and this is a truth—a hard one—you must accept when it means the breaking of one.

Where you once both shared a profound connection—now, there’s only resentment, annoyance, conflict, and arguments due to your transition altering that.

You’re moving into a direction they don’t like or understand. And as a result, they attack you and you find yourself in defense mode or maybe even feeling guilty for something that feels right to you.

And yes, there are occasions where you both find resolution or step in a place of acceptance and all of the trouble eventually dissipates. But every so often, as I said, the relationship must come to an end.

You can’t continue or afford to hold and attach to relationships that keep you stagnant and stifle your growth. It must be severed in order to support your expansion.

So yes, as you change, sometimes that means a relationship must change, too. This is okay. It doesn’t make you wrong. It doesn’t even make them wrong. It just means you two are no longer in alignment.

Grow. Shed. Change. Evolve. It’s beautiful. It’s necessary. It’s needed.

Love,

Devi