I saw a post earlier this week that said, “It’s better to forgive them and walk away than to be with them and have resentment towards them.”

Resentment is such a deadly emotion, and it usually comes from a place that was once filled with love. You can forgive someone, still love them a lot, but hold resentment towards them.

I’ve never really felt the feeling of resentment until lately, when I found myself being so resentful, and it’s not a feeling I like at all. One day, I feel like I’ve moved on and I’m okay with them, then the next day, I wonder why I feel dreadful towards them again. I know in my heart that I’ve forgiven them. At least, I think I have. But perhaps forgiveness doesn’t mean forgetting. Perhaps that’s where I’ve been getting it wrong.

I have been thinking so much about resentment these past few days, trying to understand it and why I was feeling it.

Resentment can come from forgiving someone when you know you’re not ready to, and it can also come from unspoken emotions and feelings, swallowing your disappointment because you don’t want to seem difficult.

It comes when someone doesn’t meet your expectations, when someone doesn’t choose you or treat you the way you treat them—with care. It comes when you’re angry and expect an apology, but it is never given. You keep quiet, but the resentment slowly grows.

It’s saying you’re fine when you’re not actually fine or okay with them. It comes when you’re repeatedly hurt but say nothing about it.

Resentment grows quietly, but it runs deep.

Most often, we are so quick to say, “I’ve forgiven them,” because we don’t want to be bitter, but we haven’t really settled with the fact that they hurt us. We haven’t allowed ourselves to feel the pain, yet we jump to forgiveness.

We tell ourselves that we have forgiven them without actually fully processing what they did, but every time their name comes up, something inside us tightens.

We convince ourselves we’ve moved on because we don’t want to be bitter.

And then one day, something small happens, and suddenly we’re angry about something that happened three years ago.

Not necessarily because we’re incapable of forgiveness, but because we never allowed ourselves to be angry in the first place.

Resentment is so powerful that it can change how you once saw someone and how you remember them. When you resent someone, you can start rewriting the entire relationship through the lens of the hurt.

Suddenly:

“They were never really good to me.”

“I should have known from the beginning.”

“Everything they did was fake.”

You start seeing things through one perspective. Resentment often wants things to be black and white.

Sometimes, we resent people for failing to meet expectations they never agreed to meet.

Most times, we don’t communicate our feelings well enough, and we expect them to read our minds or know how to treat us without us telling them. We create expectations in our heads that they are supposed to meet, and when they fail, we quietly grow resentment towards them.

Resentment doesn’t always punish the person you’re resentful towards. Sometimes, they don’t even know you’re still angry.

You’re the one replaying the conversation. You’re the one remembering what they said. You’re the one imagining what you should have said. You’re the one becoming guarded in new relationships because of what an old person did.

And eventually, someone who hurt you once can continue affecting your life long after they’ve left it.

How much of what we call resentment is simply grief that never found somewhere else to go?

With love

Thehalfsaidthings ❤️

Whenever I write about love or heartbreak, I always tell myself not to become one of those people who swear off love forever. The ones who say they don’t know how to love anymore or that loving too much was their greatest mistake.

I don’t think heartbreak is proof that love is the enemy.

Heartbreak is disappointment. It’s expecting something different. It’s believing someone would choose you differently than they did.

I’ve been heartbroken before.

I’ve felt pathetic. I’ve wanted to curse the day we met. I’ve watched resentment slowly grow in the same heart that was once filled with love. I’ve wished them pain simply because I couldn’t understand why they left me with so much of it.

But eventually, those feelings stopped demanding so much space.

They still cross my mind sometimes. I smile, maybe even laugh a little, and continue with whatever I was doing. Maybe that doesn’t mean I’ve completely healed. Maybe some parts of me are still catching up. But I’ve decided not to let heartbreak become heavier than the life waiting for me.

I was an opportunity, and now that opportunity is gone.

That’s okay.

Life doesn’t stop because someone couldn’t see your value. You face each day the only way you know how one day at a time.

Cry when you need to. Crying helps. But don’t let your tears become more familiar than your smile.

And whatever you do, don’t keep reopening a door that has already closed. Don’t reach out again just because loneliness is louder today. Accept what happened, even on the days it feels unbearable.

You may feel like you’re dying, but you’re not.

You’re grieving.

And grief, unlike love that wasn’t returned, eventually learns to loosen its grip with time.

We feel heartbroken, we grieve, and then we move forward because that’s just life. Some days hurt like hell, while on other days you can’t even remember their face clearly because it has faded alongside the pain.

I can’t tell you if the pain will ever completely leave or disappear. Maybe it won’t. But you will learn to live with it. You’ll learn to smile with it, laugh with it, have fun again, and slowly build a life around the parts that still ache. Little by little, you’ll look back and wonder how something that once felt like the end of your world eventually became just another memory.

The world is still out there shining, waiting to embrace you with its warmth. There are people you haven’t met yet who are waiting to know you, people who will love you as though you are all that matters in their world. They will appreciate the parts of yourself you’ve learned to hate and remind you that you were always worthy of love.

That’s life.

Heartbreak is only one chapter of your story. There are still pages left to turn, new chapters waiting to be written, and versions of yourself you haven’t met yet.

So turn the page.

There is so much more to life than what you’re feeling right now and it’s waiting for you.

With love,

Thehalfsaidthings❤️

“If we are all made of fragments, who are we really?”

In many ways, we are a collection of memories, moments, and emotions, shaped not only by what stayed, but also by what left.

What we experience in life plays a great role in how we are formed and how we see ourselves. From every moment we live through to every person we come across, we pick up bits and pieces, most times without even realizing it. We become products of what we’ve known, what we’ve grown accustomed to, and those experiences shape us into the people we are.

We meet people, and they leave little traces within us. Over time, those traces can embolden who we become.

The strange thing about being human is that we don’t just experience life… we absorb it.

We like to believe we’re one complete person, neatly packaged with a fixed personality. But maybe we’re more like tiny broken pieces gathered over a lifetime, somehow forming a picture that keeps changing.

The people we spend our time with reflect in some of our behaviours and habits. The way we laugh without feeling insecure about it may belong to someone who made us feel safe and seen. The way we love might be borrowed from the people who taught us what love looks like or maybe from the people who taught us what it wasn’t, and we simply want to do better.

The way you look at life might be influenced by the way you were raised and by your childhood experiences.

None of us is entirely original.

We walk through life carrying everything we’ve experienced and absorbed over time. Even our fears rarely appear out of nowhere. They are echoes of moments that left a mark long after they ended.

The books we read stay with us long after we’ve finished them. The movies we watch leave fragments behind that we carry with us through life. The words people repeatedly say to us can stick in our minds and eventually shape how we see ourselves.

The environments we grow up in shape the way we perceive ourselves and how we navigate life.

Not all fragments are visible.

Some become our confidence and the way we carry ourselves. Some become our insecurities. Some become our fears, while others become the way we love or avoid love.

We sometimes mistake these fragments for our identity, for who we truly are.

Are you truly shy, or did someone make you feel like your voice didn’t matter?

Are you naturally independent, or have you learned not to depend on people because they might let you down?

Are you really insecure, or has someone repeatedly pointed out something about you that you can no longer see past?

Little by little, we let those fragments define who we are, forgetting that they are only small pieces of the whole picture.

When people leave us, they don’t always leave empty-handed.

Every relationship leaves something behind. Sometimes it’s a lesson. Sometimes it’s a wound. And sometimes it’s a habit you didn’t even notice you picked up. Some fragments are beautiful, while others are much heavier.

Every goodbye leaves behind a little piece of itself. Every love story, whether it lasted a lifetime or only a season, changes the architecture of our hearts. Every disappointment rewrites our expectations. Every victory gives us a little more courage to try again.

We carry people long after they’ve stopped carrying us.

Sometimes I wonder how much of who I am actually belongs to me.

How much of my inner voice truly belongs to me, and how much of it is made up of voices I’ve collected over the years?

Maybe our lifelong work isn’t to become someone new, but to become aware of the fragments we’ve collected over the years.

To choose which ones deserve to stay, because not every piece we carry still belongs to us.

Maybe the person we’re trying to become isn’t someone we’ll find, but someone we’ll uncover when we decide which pieces of our past are worthy of becoming part of our future.

With love,

Thehalfsaidthings ❤️

A lot of people have a victim mindset without even realizing it.

And of course, this isn’t about people who have genuinely been abused or harmed. Being a victim and having a victim mindset are not the same thing. The difference lies in whether we allow painful experiences to become the lens through which we interpret every relationship that follows.

A victim mindset is when you see yourself as the one who was wronged in every story and every relationship you tell.

You’re always the good person, the better friend, the best lover. So whenever a relationship ends, you feel completely wronged and automatically see yourself as the victim.

It takes a lot for people with this mindset to take responsibility or admit when they’re wrong. They’ve lived in that bubble for so long that they’ve convinced themselves they couldn’t possibly be the problem.

When friendships or romantic relationships fall apart, I don’t believe it’s always as simple as one person being completely wrong and the other being completely right. In many situations, people react to what they’ve experienced, what they’ve been exposed to, or what has been triggered within them. Somewhere along the line, both people may have contributed to the breakdown in different ways.

A victim mindset can become so deeply rooted that you can’t even entertain the possibility that you might have played a part in what happened.

At one point or another, I think we’ve all made ourselves the victim of our own stories, whether we realized it or not. It’s human nature to want to see ourselves as the good person.

But you don’t have to paint someone else as the villain just to prove that you’re the hero.

If you find that you’re always the one being wronged in every story you tell, it might be worth pausing to examine yourself. Reflect on your actions. Replay the situation honestly. Nobody is a saint, and nobody is perfect.

People with a victim mindset often find it difficult to admit when they’re wrong because it threatens the image they have of themselves. It’s their ego trying to protect them from guilt and shame, so instead, they paint themselves as the victim.

It’s always easier to believe that everyone is hurting us than to question our own behavior.

Sometimes, it’s not even that we intentionally want to portray ourselves as the victim. It may simply be a form of self-protection. If you’ve spent years being hurt, your mind may start expecting betrayal everywhere. Eventually, every disagreement feels like another confirmation that people are against you.

The dangerous part about always seeing yourself as the victim is that you never give yourself the chance to grow. Every failed friendship becomes proof that people are terrible instead of an opportunity to ask yourself what you could have done differently.

If you keep focusing only on how people have wronged you instead of reflecting on what may have contributed to the situation, you’ll never grow in character.

Our minds also play a crucial role in making us believe we’re the victim in every situation. Our memories aren’t always objective. When we’re hurt, we often remember only what they said and how they reacted, while forgetting our own words or actions that may have led to that moment.

Our minds naturally edit stories in our favor. Unless you’re very self-aware, you’ll continue to believe you’re the victim in every story.

Taking accountability doesn’t make you a bad person. It simply means you’re honest enough to admit that good people can still make poor decisions. A lot of people confuse admitting they’re wrong with condemning themselves.

Sometimes, both people are victims, and this is something we don’t talk about enough.

Both parties can genuinely feel wronged by each other. One person felt ignored, while the other felt unappreciated. Neither intended to cause harm, but that’s how the situation unfolded, and they both walked away believing they were the victim.

That doesn’t necessarily mean either of them is lying. It simply means they experienced the same relationship differently.

Sometimes the hardest person to be honest with is ourselves. If every story has made you the victim, have you ever stopped to ask yourself what part of the story you might be leaving out?

With love,

Thehalfsaidthings ❤️

But love was never meant to hurt.

We shouldn’t feel pain and call it love. We shouldn’t embrace constant difficulties in the name of believing that something is worth fighting for.

If your nervous system is constantly in distress, that may not be love. Love is supposed to feel calm, reassuring, and like a breath of fresh air,  not something that constantly shocks, drains, or suffocates you.

Pain is not evidence of love.

Sometimes we mistake pain for love because it is the only kind of love we have ever known. We become familiar with the idea that if you don’t beg for it, then it isn’t real. If you don’t feel it painfully in your chest, then it must not be genuine. If someone doesn’t neglect you, make you question your worth, or give you less than you deserve, then maybe they don’t love you enough.

But love shouldn’t be associated with suffering. It doesn’t have to hurt for it to be genuine.

I’ve seen people walk away from healthy relationships because they don’t know how to receive love without the chaos. They don’t know what it feels like to be chosen without having to fight for attention. They don’t know what it feels like to be someone’s priority without fear, doubt, or uncertainty.

Just because it doesn’t hurt doesn’t mean they don’t love you.

Love is supposed to be a choice , a choice made with care, respect, and consistency. The feeling you mistake for love might not always be love; sometimes, it might be anxiety, fear, or the intensity of something you’ve become used to.

Sometimes, we don’t realize that what we call love is simply us romanticizing pain until we are too deeply attached to it.

We are human. We want to feel things deeply, and pain is an intense emotion. Sometimes, it can feel strangely satisfying because even though it burns, it makes us feel alive. So we keep holding on, sinking deeper and deeper into it, until the pain is the only thing left  and it begins to consume us.

Love can be deep without being destructive. It can be passionate without being painful. It can challenge us without breaking us.

Pain is a feeling, but it is not proof of love.

Love does require effort, but effort is different from constantly being hurt.

There is a huge difference between effort and suffering, yet most of the time we don’t realize it.

You can fight for a relationship to work. You can put in the necessary effort, communicate, compromise, and grow together. But you should never have to fight to be loved. That is where you draw the line.

You deserve to be seen, wanted, and chosen freely not made to feel like you have to earn someone’s love.

A relationship can have difficult seasons, but it shouldn’t make you feel as though you are constantly auditioning for a role that is already yours. You shouldn’t compromise to the point where you begin to lose yourself, your identity, or the parts of you that make you who you are.

It’s true that anxiety can sometimes feel exciting, especially when that is all you have ever known. When your nervous system becomes so accustomed to being on high alert, it can begin to mistake anxiety for love. Then, when you finally experience peace, you don’t know how to recognize it as love.

Sometimes we become so familiar with uncertainty that consistency feels foreign. When someone chooses us wholeheartedly, communicates clearly, and shows up consistently, we run not because we don’t know how to love, but because we don’t know how to receive that kind of love.

So we return to what is familiar, even when what is familiar is the very thing that has been hurting us all along.

The moment you have to disappear to keep someone, you are no longer experiencing love, you are negotiating your existence. You shouldn’t shrink yourself just to keep love.

So No pains isn’t love , what kept you awake at night wasn’t love it was uncertainty. What made your heart race wasn’t passion, it was anxiety. What you called chemistry was often just familiarity with pain.

Love is always supposed to feel like coming home to yourself.

with love,

Thehalfsaidthings ❤️

I’ve always been the type to play it safe, be it in friendships or romantic relationships. I always stay away from complications, but somehow, I’m always dragged into them.

I watch from afar. I suppress myself to be the better person, the bigger person, the one who is always okay, so there’s no need to be checked on.

I follow patterns like a safeguard because I don’t know who I am without the sense of familiarity, without the feeling of “I’ve been here before.”

Maybe this is not playing safe. Maybe this is just jeopardizing myself and calling it safe. Maybe this is just fear or a lack of self-recognition.

For the longest time, I’ve always thought staying far from harm ,from the world was me protecting myself , my identity, my vulnerability, not wanting to reveal too much. But what if it’s actually me not knowing myself? What if it’s me not being one with myself?

What if it’s childhood trauma and patterns that keep repeating, and I miss the thin line between playing it safe and losing myself? What if it’s the fear of abandonment that keeps showing its face, and I just can’t seem to recognize it? Or maybe I’m simply choosing to ignore it because “I’m playing it safe.”

I look the other way about things because I don’t want to be that person. Or maybe I don’t know how to be that person.

You know, the one who always says what’s on their mind. The one who says, “No, I can’t do this for you,” even though you’re my friend, because what you’re asking is inconvenient for me at that moment.

That person.

I run from things when they get too hard or when they are unfamiliar.

“Give me too much love and I’m out of there. Choose me without hesitation and I’m running away with my shoes in my hands. Show me too much kindness and I’m questioning your motives behind it.”

Because it’s not something I’m very used to.

A friend told me he loves me (obviously as a friend). He usually says it every now and then, but it still sounds like a shock to me every single time.

Not because I don’t think I’m worthy of love, but because it’s just not something I’m used to. And sometimes I still wonder why he chooses to love me so freely.

Playing it safe has always been my expertise. It’s like I’m watching but never daring to make a move that could cost me a lot.

I know the game in my head, but I can’t play it. I can’t decide to make a move, so I’m stuck somewhere in between.

I’ve always thought being easy to handle was safer than being honest, than being true to myself. But I didn’t think too much about it because being easy to handle means shrinking yourself into so many pieces just to be able to fit into others.

It means swallowing your truth so you won’t be considered “too much.” Then, somewhere along the way, you lose parts of yourself that you no longer even recognize as yours because you’re too busy playing it safe.

Being the person who never complains, never asks, never needs anything often gets praised as “strong” and “put together,” but we forget that sometimes that strength comes with the cost of never allowing people to actually show up for you, even when they want to.

It’s so easy to lose your identity while trying to play it safe.

Maybe playing it safe was never really about avoiding the world. Maybe it was about avoiding the parts of myself I was afraid to meet.

The part of me that has needs. The part of me that wants to be chosen. The part of me that wants to say no without feeling guilty and yes without searching for hidden intentions.

Maybe the real danger was not always what could hurt me outside of myself. Maybe it was the possibility of losing myself while trying so hard not to be hurt.

I don’t want to spend my whole life standing at the edge of things, studying the game, knowing every possible outcome but never making a move.

Maybe safety is not hiding.

Maybe safety is knowing that even if something hurts me, I will still have myself to come back to.

With love,

Thehalfsaidthings ❤️

We have normalized viewing jealousy as a hateful and selfish thing that we’re not supposed to feel. But let’s be sincere: jealousy is also an emotion, just like love or happiness.

I shouldn’t be hated for feeling a little jealous. I shouldn’t be seen as a wicked person because I experience a glimpse of jealousy.

And don’t get me wrong. I’m not talking about the kind of jealousy that leads to hatred or envy. I’m definitely not talking about the kind that makes you want to hurt your friends or wish their lives were yours.

I’m talking about that quiet feeling that sits in your heart when you see someone achieve something you deeply desire. You’re proud of them, genuinely happy for them, over the moon for them even, yet that feeling still sits in your heart quiet, but heavy.

I’m human. I should be allowed to feel all kinds of emotions without hiding them or apologizing for them.

Even the Bible describes God as a jealous God. If God can be associated with jealousy, who am I, a mere human to pretend I’m above such feelings?

I honestly think we should allow a little more grace when it comes to jealousy. It’s an emotion too.

If I see an ex doing well, happy, achieving great things, or in a new relationship, I’m allowed to feel a little jealous, especially if I don’t have those things myself. That doesn’t make me a bad person. It doesn’t mean I don’t wish them happiness. It’s simply a feeling.

Or if I see someone close to me succeeding and thriving in life, I’m allowed to feel that small sting of jealousy without being ashamed of myself for feeling like that . It’s a human emotion.

These days, people rarely admit to feeling jealous because they don’t want to be labeled as bad people or seen as ungrateful for what they have. But let me ask you this: if you saw something beautiful, something good, wouldn’t you want it for yourself too? Wouldn’t you wish for it?

So why does that make me a bad person?

People often mix up  jealousy, envy and bitterness and treat them as the same thing. But honestly, they are not. Sometimes jealousy is simply a sign something matters to you or that you have an unmet desire and that’s just it.

feeling jealousy is not the same as acting with malice. A brief sting of jealousy can simply just be an emotional response to seeing something you deeply want. What matters most is what you do with that feeling. If it leads to resentment, sabotage, or wishing harm on others, that’s different. But acknowledging, “I wish I had that too,” is a very human experience.

I honestly think part of the reason people are afraid to admit they feel jealous is because jealousy has been given a bad reputation. The moment you say you’re jealous, people assume you’re bitter, ungrateful, or secretly hoping for someone else’s downfall. You’re a witch.

But feelings don’t make us good or bad people. Actions do.

A person can feel jealous and still be kind.

A person can feel jealous and still be supportive.

A person can feel jealous and still genuinely celebrate another person’s success.

The feeling itself isn’t the problem. The problem is when we allow that feeling to grow into resentment.

Maybe jealousy isn’t always a sign of selfishness. Maybe sometimes it’s a mirror that reflects what we deeply desire.

Maybe the reason I feel jealous when I see someone living the life I want is because it reminds me of the dreams I haven’t reached yet. Maybe the reason their happiness stings is because it highlights an emptiness I’m still trying to fill within myself.

Jealousy most times points toward desire, our  desires that are unmet yet .

When I see someone traveling the world and I feel jealous, perhaps what I’m really feeling is a desire for freedom.

When I see someone in a healthy relationship and I feel jealous, perhaps what I’m really feeling is a desire for connection and love.

When I see someone succeeding in their career and I feel jealous, perhaps what I’m really feeling is a desire for growth, achievement, and recognition.

The jealousy is rarely about them.

It’s often about me. It’s always about me.

About the things I wish for.

The prayers I am still waiting on.

The goals I am still working toward.

The life I hope to build someday.

Perhaps that’s why jealousy feels so heavy. It doesn’t just show us what others have. It shows us what we deeply long for.

And maybe instead of shaming ourselves for feeling jealous, we should learn to listen to what the feeling is trying to tell us.

Because beneath jealousy there is often grief.

Grief for what we don’t have.

Grief for opportunities we missed.

Grief for versions of our lives that never happened.

Sometimes there is even hope hidden inside jealousy.

After all, you cannot envy what means nothing to you.

The sting exists because somewhere inside you, there is still a dream alive enough to want more.

Maybe the problem isn’t feeling jealous. Maybe the problem is what we choose to do with that jealousy.

With love

Thehalfsaidthings ❤️

I recently realized something: people tend to ask questions when they are in love, or when they genuinely want to know everything about you because they are interested in you.

At first, I didn’t think too much about it because I assumed some people prefer to observe rather than ask, which is completely fine. But nobody who is genuinely interested in you and curious about who you are would not want to know more about you through questions.

They want to know every side of you. Apart from observing, they want to be involved in the process of getting to know you better. They want to know your past thoughts, your present thoughts, the little things about you, and the silly or stupid things you’ve never said out loud.

They want to know the things that keep you up at night, who your childhood best friend was, your fondest memories, and your plans for the future.

They want to see the way your mouth moves when you answer those questions, the way your eyes light up when you’re asked about your favorite memories, or when you’re talking about the silliest things you did as a child. They notice how your voice cracks when you talk about the difficult experiences you had growing up.

Those are the kinds of things people who are genuinely interested in you, and perhaps in love with you, want to see. That’s why they ask questions not to invade your privacy, but to know you more deeply.

Asking questions is far more intimate than we realize. It’s not just an interrogation. It creates a sense of closeness that feels profound, and it builds connection.

You must be curious about the person you like or love. There has to be a desire to know every part of them the good, the bad, and the ugly not to judge or criticize them but to know.

Maybe that’s why some conversations stay with us long after they end.

Not because of what we said, but because of what we were asked. Sometimes you don’t remember the compliment someone gave you but you will definitely remember the question they asked because they made you feel seen and perhaps you haven’t felt that seen in a long time

There is something disarming about someone looking at you and wanting to know more. Not the version of you that everyone sees, but the version hidden beneath habits, routines, and carefully rehearsed answers.

The version that carries old wounds and quiet dreams.

The version that remembers strange childhood moments for no reason at all.

To be asked meaningful questions is to be given permission to unfold.

And perhaps that’s what makes it feel so intimate.

For a brief moment, someone is choosing curiosity over assumption. They are saying, “I don’t want to guess who you are. I want you to tell me.”

And in a world where so many people only want to be heard, there is something deeply beautiful about someone wanting to understand.

There is a huge difference between being listened to and being known. Many people listen to reply, but someone who ask thoughtful questions is trying to understand, to know you better beyond the surface

Love pays attention.

Love is about paying attention and questions often comes from noticing small details:

    “You mentioned that once before. Why did it affect you so much?”

Asking questions can also be a form of care. When someone remembers your answers and asks follow-up questions later, it shows they weren’t just hearing you they were holding onto pieces of you.

Maybe that’s what love really is.

Not knowing everything about someone, but never losing the desire to know more.

Understanding that people are constantly changing, growing, and becoming. The person you met a year ago is not the same person standing in front of you today. There are new dreams, new fears, new wounds, new lessons, and new versions of them waiting to be discovered.

So the questions never truly end.

Because love is curious.

It wants to know what changed, what stayed the same, what made you smile today, what broke your heart yesterday, and what you’re hoping for tomorrow.

Perhaps that is why being asked thoughtful questions feels so intimate. In a quiet way, every question says the same thing:

“I still want to know you.”

And sometimes, that is one of the purest forms of love there is.

With love ,

Thehalfsaidthings ❤️

We all have that one insecurity we hide in the deepest parts of ourselves, so deeply buried that sometimes we forget it’s even there.

Insecurities we’re too afraid to say out loud eventually become so woven into our daily lives that we stop noticing them altogether.

For me, it’s vulnerability. Being exposed. Being seen.

It’s actually crazy for a writer like myself, someone who mostly writes about love, thoughts, and feelings to be scared of being seen. But that’s just how it is.

I want to be related to, to be relatable, but not truly seen. I crave the connection but without exposure.

Up until recently, I had completely forgotten that this was an insecurity of mine, until someone saw beyond the version of myself I carefully controlled. And just like that, I was shocked and scared at the same time.

I was speechless.

But instead of confronting the feeling, I conceded to it and simply walked away.

That was when it occurred to me: I don’t like it when people know me too much. I don’t like the feeling of becoming predictable to them.

I don’t like being known, being seen beyond the surface.

I crave being seen, being wanted, being understood yet deep down, I’m terrified of being seen wholly. Of being exposed. Vulnerable.

I’ve always struggled with vulnerability, so I hide behind masks, behind layers, playing the roles people expect from me without ever revealing too much.

Vulnerability feels costly to me. I’ve carried my emotions alone for so long that relying on someone else feels unfamiliar, almost frightening.

I’ve been in survival mode for so long that I forgot living was supposed to be more than just enduring.

For the longest time, I buried my emotions instead of expressing them, so now it scares me when someone sees beyond the mask I built to protect myself.

Being open feels unsafe to me because it’s something I’m not used to.

I’ve never been used to sharing my feelings, my thoughts, or my emotions. I’m not the type of person who simply says what’s on their mind or expresses themselves easily.

My fear isn’t just about being seen; it’s about losing control over how I’m perceived.

I like people having different versions of me, while some versions I keep entirely to myself. Just for me alone.

When people get too close to me, when they try to understand me or truly see me, I withdraw. My first instinct is to shut down because being seen feels like being exposed, like being left naked emotionally, uncertain whether the other person can truly accept me wholly or if they’re only pretending to.

The feeling of finally letting someone in, trusting someone, only for them to leave you exposed and empty… having to fill the void they left behind, that’s the feeling I never want to experience.

Perhaps that’s the cruelest part of it all: wanting love, understanding, and connection so deeply, yet fearing the vulnerability that comes with receiving it.

Maybe one day, being seen won’t feel so frightening. Maybe one day, vulnerability won’t feel like losing pieces of myself.

But for now, I am still learning how to exist without hiding.

With love,

Thehalfsaidthings ❤️

Not for the weight of holding on to things for so long

But finally letting go

The hate, the anger, the resentment, the bitterness

The love…….

For finally opening myself and becoming whole

One mind, one heart, one soul

Heavy because I know I can finally be free

Tears pouring down my eyes but from relief

Tears that hold much more than sadness and grief

Tears once filled with pain now flow because they want to

Gratitude settling into my spine

I can feel myself

The wholeness of all of it

Finally making it all about me

Being one with my emotions

The blank space now has something in it

Letters boldly written in the pages I thought would forever be empty

I can read out loud, I can see clearly

Heavy heart but nothing drowning me

I’m floating like it’s just me and the ocean

Feeling the cold air as the ocean wraps around my body

Being one with me

The evening sun setting in the sky, shining towards me

Like it’s telling me, “I’m here for you.”

Just feeling it all in

As I shut my eyes

Letting the waves direct my body

Breathing softly

Peace…. That’s what it feels like

Something I’m oddly not familiar with

Like a stranger creeping in

But it feels good, reassuring me of its gentle intentions as I welcome it

Finally a fresh start after a storming season

The wind blowing around me and it sounds just like a whisper in my ears

Reassuring me everything will be fine

Soon soon……..

With love,

Thehalfsaidthings❤️

Sometimes I forget that I’m just human. I don’t always have to put up a strong front. I’m allowed to express myself, to grieve, to cry my heart out when I can’t hold it in anymore.

I don’t always have to have everything figured out and that’s okay.

I’m allowed to take a break when things feel heavy. To put myself first sometimes. To be selfish in moments where I need to choose myself because I want to live too, not just survive.

To be able to look people in the eye and say, “I can’t take this anymore.” To allow myself to regret things I’ve done in the past and forgive myself because I was naive then and didn’t know better.

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Sometimes I forget that humans are allowed to feel too much . To express. To make mistakes.

I’ve guarded my heart with so many restraints that it has forgotten how to beat, how to feel excitement again. I’ve suppressed my emotions and feelings for so long that I’ve become an empty shell, with nothing but a storm raging in my heart because everything has been buried for too long.

I treat others with so much thoughtfulness that I forget to keep some for myself. I’ve been so understanding of others, constantly putting myself in their shoes without considering my own feelings, and yet nobody does the same for me.

Maybe this is the price of being full of empathy. You feel other people’s pain but forget to feel your own. You see things from everyone else’s point of view, but nobody stops to see them from yours.

I’m always so quick to beat myself up over things I can’t control or change. I’m always ready to criticize myself over the smallest mistakes.

I hate how I don’t give myself enough grace and how hard I am on myself.

I hate how I don’t allow myself to feel too deeply or pour too much of myself into things because of the fear of being left empty again.

I keep forgetting that I’m human too, and that the grace I extend to others should be given to myself as well. I hate how quickly little things break me and how I’m always ready to shrink myself for others.

I forget that I’m human too, and that I can’t keep pouring into others without caring for myself. I forget that this is also my first time on this earth, so I’m bound to make mistakes.

I’m allowed to desperately and wholeheartedly seek love, and I shouldn’t feel ashamed for wanting to love and be loved.

I’ve learned how to carry pain quietly so people will still find me easy to love, and somewhere along the way, I started believing my feelings were a burden — that no one could fully understand me or would be willing to.

I became so used to surviving that softness started to feel unsafe. When people are kind to me, I begin looking for hidden meanings behind that kindness, as if I’m not worthy enough to receive it.

I crave love deeply, yet I’m terrified of needing it too openly. I mourn the version of myself that used to feel things freely. I fear being difficult, so I swallow everything until it turns into heaviness weighing me down.

I kept shrinking myself to fit into spaces that never had room for me. I gave people the understanding I secretly wished someone would give me.

Maybe I became emotionally distant because feeling everything all at once was exhausting.

But through it all, I keep forgetting that I’m only human, and I deserve the same gentleness I give to others.

With love,

Thehalfsaidthings ❤️

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For the longest time, I never really believed in the concept of luck because I never once considered myself a lucky person.

But one thing I’ve come to realize and accept in life is that not believing in something doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist.

So does luck actually exist?

Yes, I think it does, even if we don’t realize it at the exact moment it happens. Sometimes, it’s much later in life that we look back and think, damn, I was indeed lucky. Because if we hadn’t made a certain decision or followed a particular path, we probably wouldn’t be where we are today.

But then again, was it really luck?

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I’ve heard stories from successful men and women about decisions they made in the past and how those decisions shaped who they are today. Many of them describe it as luck because, at the time, they were simply making choices without fully knowing where those choices would lead them. They were “lucky” that one particular decision ended up changing their lives for the better.

Life doesn’t always go the way we want because it’s unpredictable, and there’s no manual for it. You never truly know which decision will shape you or break you.

But I’ve come to believe that at one point in our lives, we were all lucky, whether we realized it then or not.

Still, this brings me back to my first statement when I say I don’t believe in luck. First of all, I’m a Christian, and as Christians, we believe more in grace. We believe it is God who changes our lives and gives us things we may not have initially worked for, and that is grace — His unmerited favor.

So then, what is luck?

To some people, luck is that one life-changing moment or decision that unexpectedly changes their lives for the better. To others, luck is receiving something they didn’t necessarily deserve and not fully understanding how they got it.

But whether you deserve that luck or not, I don’t think it just happens randomly. I believe there must have been some groundwork laid somewhere through your character, personality, principles, or decisions for you to meet that moment. And this is why I think luck is different from grace because grace doesn’t require groundwork. Grace simply happens because God allows it to.

Our everyday decisions, our character, our personality, and our actions are building toward something, even when we don’t realize it. This is where opportunity comes in. If your character, decisions, and actions align with that opportunity when it appears, everything clicks, and suddenly we say, wow, I was lucky.

But for those who weren’t ready at that moment, the opportunity may pass them by and there’s no guarantee that same opportunity will return. Then they will blame it on their luck not knowing it was their lack of discipline and preparation that led to that

Life is unpredictable, and we may never fully understand why certain moments change our lives the way they do. But one thing I do believe is that our everyday choices are shaping something bigger than we can see. So while we wait for opportunities, maybe the most important thing is to keep becoming the kind of person who is ready when they finally come.

With love,

Thehalfsaidthings

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I think I’ve mastered the act of love theologically. It feels good being able to define it, to describe it, to know exactly the kind of love I want.

Give me a book and a pen, and I will create the most beautiful love story you’ve ever read.

But when it comes to actually living it… I don’t think I know anything about love.

Love seems so perfect in our imagination

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I could say I’ve fallen in love , maybe once or twice, but even then I’m not sure I understood it. I don’t know what it feels like to be deeply loved by someone and to love them back with the same depth.

I don’t know what it feels like to be chosen without hesitation, or to have someone go beyond themselves just for you.

In theory, love is beautiful.

It is exciting, consuming something you crave no matter how many times it breaks you.

In theory, love heals. It completes. It finds you again and again until it finally stays.

But I’m starting to wonder if love only feels that good in theory.

Because in reality, it feels uncertain. Unsure. Incomplete. Sometimes one-sided.

And yet, we still build our lives around it, still hoping, still waiting, still believing that one day it will feel the way it does in our heads.

But what if….. maybe love was never meant to feel like theory

In my head, I know exactly what love entails. I know what to expect. I know how someone is supposed to act when they are in love with you. I know the red flags you’re supposed to run away from …I know all these things.

But when I fall in love, my heart takes control, and those red flags start to blur. Suddenly, I don’t know what love entails anymore.

It’s like being outside a game, watching. You can predict every move because you see everything clearly but it’s not the same when you’re in it. Suddenly, you don’t know as much as you thought you did.

Movies portray love so beautifully, like it’s something we must experience in this lifetime. You watch countless romance movies and read dozens of love stories, yet still have no real understanding of what love truly is.

Some say love is staying….staying no matter what, choosing someone despite the circumstances. Others say love always finds its way back if it’s meant to be. And then there are those who say love is just chemistry, the way your body responds and that loyalty is what truly matters.

Loving in theory has made us believe we understand what love really is.

Love in theory is simple. It is direct. The lines between right and wrong are clear.

But in reality, those lines are blurred. You think you know, but at the same time, you can’t tell what’s right or wrong anymore.

In theory, love is soft like a cushion you can fall back on after a long day. It is patient and certain of itself. It doesn’t leave. It doesn’t confuse you. It doesn’t make you question where you stand.

In theory, love chooses you loudly, repeatedly and without hesitation.

But in reality, love stutters. It pauses. It withdraws. It asks you to understand what it cannot explain.

In reality, love is not always mutual. Sometimes it is you loving more, waiting longer, holding on tighter. Sometimes it comes at the wrong time, and you can’t even reciprocate.

Right person, wrong timing. Vice versa.

Loving in reality is rereading old messages, wondering when it all went wrong while curled up in your bed. It’s feeling so certain one day and completely unsure the next left with nothing but unanswered questions.

Is it love …..wanting to address the same issues over and over. Going  back to the same person repeatedly, just because you believe loving them must mean it’s the right thing to do?

Love in reality, at least until you meet the right person, is questioning yourself over and over, your sanity, your standards, everything you once stood for.

You start to wonder if you’re too much,

too demanding, or simply asking for more than you deserve.

And no one tells you that the hardest part is not loving, it’s realizing that love, on its own, is not enough to make someone stay.

Maybe that’s the thing about love:

it will always feel different from the way we were taught to expect it.

Maybe…….one day, I won’t just understand love,I’ll finally recognize it when it’s real.

With love,

Thehalfsaidthings ❤️

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I think I have this syndrome of always wanting to be liked, and I struggle to accept it when I’m not.

For a long time, I lived in the bubble of believing that if you are a good person, a nice person, don’t do too much, and remain supportive, people will naturally like you.

Sadly… I couldn’t have been more wrong.

The world doesn’t work that way. It isn’t always black or white. Sometimes it is grey, or no color at all.

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I have always wrestled with the idea that I am a very likable person and that it should be impossible not to like me. But that isn’t true. Not that I am the problem, but you can be a genuinely good person and some people still won’t like you and that is totally fine.

You can’t please everyone. Everyone has their own opinions and their own version of how they see people and themselves.

When I went for NYSC camp, I made a decision to put myself out there to be free, open, and extroverted. And yes, I did exactly that.

I became the Corps Camp Director, a Platoon Leader, and I also held a position in the Red Cross.

As Platoon Leader, I was voted in by my platoon members. For Corps Camp Director, they organized interviews, and I won. For the Red Cross position, I was once again nominated by the people.

So tell me, why was I hated for these same things? It was honestly absurd.

I was disliked for holding too many positions in camp, and because I was a girl.

My first thought was: why am I being hated for being a girl in leadership positions in this modern society? I thought we were all mature now. I thought we had moved past the idea that a woman should not be above men.

And some of my own gender agreed with them.

So much for women supporting women.

It was really sad, and it affected me then. Luckily, I had people who still stood by me and supported me.

That whole experience opened a window for me to truly see the world for what it is.

Not everybody is going to like you and that is the honest truth.

My “always wanting to be liked” syndrome may also come from being a middle child raised in a Nigerian home.

A child who is always well-behaved, put together, and smart often gets less attention because everyone assumes they are fine and can take care of themselves.

In many Nigerian homes, once you are not the problematic child, you can easily be overlooked. Sadly.

sometimes, being low-maintenance means being unseen.

And I’ve carried this need to be liked into my friendships and relationships.

I like walking into a room and being liked. Being noticed.

I like that feeling.

To be honest, till this day, I still feel a little shocked when people don’t like me because I know I’m a genuinely likable person. The people around me can even verify that.

But I’m starting to learn that you cannot control how other people see you.

Likability cannot be controlled. No matter how kind, competent, or genuine you are, some people will still dislike you for reasons that often have more to do with them than with you.

With love,

Thehalfsaidthings ❤️

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We are taught that love means staying.

That if it is real, you fight for it no matter what.

That true love is measured by endurance, sacrifice, and how much pain you are willing to survive for it.

I used to believe that too.

I always thought love was meant to be fought for. It doesn’t come easily or often, so I believed we were supposed to fight to keep it and protect it at all cost even when it becomes hard or difficult.

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All the romantic movies and books portray love as something worth fighting for. They repeatedly tell us, it’s about continuing to choose each other no matter the circumstances or challenges. We must work through everything. You must never give up .

But real life is rarely that simple.

Sometimes , or even most times, only one person has that mindset of wanting to work things out. One person is already tired and giving up, while the other still believes there is hope.

And that’s where many of us lose ourselves

We were always taught that love means staying, being there, being the emotional support.

But sometimes staying becomes suffering.

Little by little, you lose the parts of yourself that once lit up rooms, and you are left as a shell of who you used to be feeling drained, yet unable to leave because love was supposed to mean staying.

Even when deep in your gut you know there’s no hope, no future for both of you. They cannot change who they are, because people do not change easily, but you still decide to stay because you confuse loyalty with self- abandonment. We mistake suffering for devotion.

Sometimes the deepest love is knowing when to stop holding on.

Holding on to something that is no longer working can become harmful and painful. There are times when staying becomes so damaging, full of resentment or repeated pain. Sometimes being together causes more harm than good. The kindest thing to do is to let go.

Letting go does not mean you stop loving them. It simply means choosing yourself, loving yourself more, and recognizing that your heart deserves peace too. The version of you that loved them will always exist. The memories will always remain. Love can still exist in memories, gratitude, and lessons learned.

The final act of love is not always staying; sometimes it is stepping aside.

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Love is not about possession. Real love does not mean owning someone. Sometimes loving deeply means understanding they are not yours to keep, and knowing when to draw the line. True love can be release. It is knowing when to stop fighting harder, stop holding on, stop forcing things to stay, and instead accept the end while still wanting peace for them, even if it hurts you.

We need to accept that some people can only become who they need to be away from us, and sometimes we need the same distance to become ourselves again.

Maybe some people are only meant to walk with us for a season. To teach us something. To awaken something in us. To love us in the only way they knew how.

And then to leave.

Letting go can be very painful because the love is still there. But love alone is not always enough to make something work. Sometimes loving someone means freeing them from a version of life that no longer works.

Some endings are not failures; they are mercy.

Sometimes the final act of love is not how tightly we hold on, but how gently we let go while choosing ourselves.

With love,

Thehalfsaidthings ❤️

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Change rarely announces itself. It doesn’t come with arguments or slammed doors, it comes quietly, disguised as busy schedules, delayed replies, and conversations that no longer go as deep as they used to.

One day, you realize the people you once felt closest to friends, lovers, almost-lovers now feel slightly out of reach. Nothing terrible happened, yet everything feels different. And that’s the hardest part: learning how to grieve connections that didn’t end, but simply changed.    

I don’t like change.

Not because I’m difficult. Or because I refuse to grow. But because every time something changes, it feels like something in me quietly breaks.

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I always get attached to the way things were, to how people used to be, to the version of myself that existed in certain moments. And when things shift, it’s not just the present that changes… it’s like the past gets rewritten too.

Places stop feeling the same.

People start sounding different.

Even memories begin to feel distant, like they belong to someone I used to be.

And I hate that

To me change feels like losing something, even when nothing is physically gone

I hate that there are moments I can never go back to, no matter how badly I want to. I hate that some versions of people only exist in the past, and I’m left here trying to grieve something that’s technically still alive.I hate that life doesn’t ask for permission before it moves on.

I know change is part of being human. We grow, we evolve.

But what if I’m not ready for that change?

I like being used to things. I choose what’s familiar over what’s new, every single time. I like the comfort of knowing what to expect, the quiet stability of things staying the same. I don’t know if it comes from some kind of emotional pattern or past hurt, but once I’m familiar with something, I want it to stay that way.

If you’re going to change, don’t just do it on your own.Give me the chance to change with you.Prepare me for it.

My mind isn’t built for sudden shifts, especially not from people I care about. That’s part of why I struggle to let go. Once I like you, once I’m used to you, I hold on deeply, fully. It feels permanent to me.

I don’t just like you for a moment. I like you for life. But I also want things to stay the way they were, the conversations, the attention, the laughter… the little things that made it all feel safe.

And sometimes I find myself wondering,

what if I’m not ready for the next chapter?

I’m a sensitive person. I feel everything deeply.I notice the smallest shifts, the change in tone, the drop in energy, the difference in how someone shows up. Even through a simple message, I can feel when something isn’t the same anymore.

And because I overthink, I don’t just notice it… I sit with it. I question it. I let it sink into me sometimes more than it probably should.

I don’t hate change because I’m weak or overly sentimental. I hate it because I get attached to moments, to people, to versions of things that once felt right. And I’m afraid of anything ruining that.Sometimes, I wish life could just pause.It feels like everything is moving too fast… and everyone is slowly drifting away.

People get busy.Friends move to different cities, different countries.Siblings grow up, build their own lives, start their own families.The moments that once felt personal like they belonged only to you and them, now have to be shared with new people, new priorities, new versions of life.

And I understand it. I do.

Change is necessary. It can’t be stopped.But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.

Change feels like quiet loss, unannounced loss.The kind you can’t explain to anyone because nothing “bad” really happened… but somehow, everything is different.

And maybe that’s what hurts the most

The hardest part is knowing change is inevitable, yet still wishing I could negotiate with it, delay it , soften it , control how it arrives. But it’s impossible. The only thing you can do is move on but moving on doesn’t mean leaving everything behind. You carry old versions of things with you. The memories don’t disappear… they stay.

Faded, maybe but still there.

But no one really talks about how lonely it feels while you’re in the middle of it,when everything familiar is slipping through your fingers,and you’re forced to become someone new without fully saying goodbye to who you used to be.

I think that’s why I struggle with it.

Because letting go has never felt like a simple release to me.

It feels like losing pieces of myself in places I can’t return to.

Maybe one day I’ll learn to embrace change.

Maybe one day I’ll stop trying to hold onto things that are already leaving.

But for now, I’m still learning how to let go without feeling like I’m losing everything.

With love,

Thehalfsaidthings ❤️

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This generation has made it so normal to walk away without explanations. But sometimes, you do owe people that clarity especially when your actions have hurt or negatively impacted them.

We are living in a time where accountability feels optional.

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People walk away from their actions without explanation, without apology, and often without consequence.

It’s like we’re in the middle of a quiet pandemic one where responsibility is avoided, deflected, or completely ignored.

Instead of owning up to mistakes, we shift blame, make excuses, or disappear when things get uncomfortable. And somehow, this has become normal.

You can’t just hurt someone and then choose to walk away without any explanation. It may not change what’s been done, but at least it gives them a sense of closure and a small chance to move forward with their life.

For me, I value explanations. So yes, you owe me one for anything you do in my life. I don’t take things lightly. If there’s a reason behind your actions, I want to hear it.

So unless the person you hurt refuses to hear from you, you owe them an explanation.This generation is so cooked that at the slightest inconvenience, we choose to walk away without caring how the other person will feel or react. People throw away years of friendship, relationships, and memories all because they don’t want to take accountability or apologize. It’s sad, but it’s the reality of the world we’re living in now. Everyone feels above it all, so instead of explaining themselves, they simply walk away.

We’ve normalized ghosting so much, and it’s honestly heartbreaking. Ghosting, silence, and deflection have replaced honest conversations. People choose to walk away because it’s easier to avoid than to admit they were wrong. But that, in itself, is the problem you knew what you did, you were aware, so you should own up to it.

For a generation that claims to be self-aware and emotionally mature, we are normalizing the wrong things.

Communication is the bare minimum, and people deserve that. You can’t just wake up one morning and decide to ghost or walk out of someone’s life simply because you can’t explain yourself. If you hurt someone, take accountability for it and apologize—that’s the least you can do.

Excuses have now become the standard. Everyone has one excuse or another to justify their behavior. Instead of taking responsibility, they simply hide behind those excuses.

“That’s just how I am”

“You misunderstood me”

“I didn’t mean it like that”

Words like this is avoiding accountability while making it seem like an explanation

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In our today world, ghosting has no consequences, leaving without any explanation has no consequences whatsoever

• Friends tolerate it

• Relationships normalize it

• Society excuses it

It’s now very normal for a friend to cut off or ghost another friend without any explanation because they feel like they don’t owe anybody anything so rather now talking it out them just ghost and cut off

When you refuse to take accountability for your actions, you don’t just walk away you leave the other person in pieces. Confused, questioning what they did wrong, replaying every moment over and over in their mind, searching for answers that may never come.

They sit with the silence you left behind, turning it into blame, into doubt, into something that slowly eats at their sense of self. And before they even realize it, they’re no longer just hurt by what you did they’re starting to believe they were the problem all along.

Accountability isn’t just about admitting you were wrong.

It’s about respect for yourself and for others.And maybe the real problem isn’t that people make mistakes. It’s that they no longer feel the need to answer for them.

With gratitude,

Thehalfsaidthings ❤️

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This post is a bit sensitive to me

April fool’s day  is no longer the way it was before, there is no more joke with how serious Nigeria has become.

It’s really sad that the culture we grew up with, things we used to look forward to is slowly fading away.

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Life has become so serious that nobody even cares about April Fool’s Day anymore. And to be honest, nothing even feels funny again because of the way this country is going. The price of fuel is ridiculous, the cost of living is suffocating, and to top it all off no light.

I heard on the radio this morning that taxi drivers and bus drivers in Edo State are refusing to go out and work because of how ridiculous the price of fuel has become. And honestly, you can’t even blame them anymore. When you subtract the cost of fuel from what they earn, there’s barely anything left as profit for them to take home at the end of the day.

The youth are struggling with unemployment, and mental stability is declining every day. So yes, there is absolutely nothing funny about the situation in this country. Security isn’t even guaranteed; people are dying every day because of the lack of it. Just look at that trending video of the poor woman in Jos, holding her dead child and crying all because the government can’t provide security for its citizens.It’s really heartbreaking.

They have failed to protect us.

They have failed to create opportunities for us.

They have failed to provide the basic things we need to live.

In more ways than we can count, the government has failed us.

Being an adult in Nigeria right now feels like life is beating you 10–0. Things are so unbelievably hard. It feels like the middle class no longer exists; you’re either poor or rich. And it’s just so sad that we are now the adults trying to survive in this kind of economy.

Maybe I’m being sentimental about today, but little by little, we are losing the culture we grew up with, the small things that brought us joy as kids. And now, the younger generation might never even experience them, because life has become so serious that we’ve forgotten how to hold on to those moments.

Happy new month my loves,

Thehalfsaidthings ❤️

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There is something I just can’t  fully wrapped my head around, how exactly do people deal with loss?

At this point, I can’t say the feeling of loss is foreign to me. I’ve lost a friend I really cared about, and I’m still not over his death. Because what do you mean he is no longer here? That he can’t randomly call me again… ever?

I’m a very fragile person when it comes to emotions and anything that makes me feel deeply. I’m super sensitive. I can literally grieve the loss of a friendship; that’s how sensitive I am.

Generally, I don’t like the feeling of loss, just as I’m not a huge fan of change. I know people grow, people evolve, but I always find myself thinking why can’t we do that together? Why can’t we grow side by side and stay the way we’ve always been? (Maybe I’ll talk more about change in my next article.)

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Somebody I know recently died. I’ve known this child since he was little a young boy full of promise and hope. But he died. According to his parents, it was brain cancer… and that was it. The end of his chapter.

I didn’t grieve deeply for him, but the news came as a shock. And sometimes, my thoughts drift to his parents and siblings how are they coping? How do you live with the reality that you will never see or hear someone you love ever again? It’s really sad.

Death is such a painful thing, yet it’s inevitable. Everybody will die someday.

In my usual pattern of overthinking and anxiety, I find myself wondering what exactly is all this for? The sleepless nights, the constant striving, the way we hurt each other… when we don’t even know what will happen in the next minute, or even the next second.

What is all this for?

I think we need to change our concept of life. We should focus more on truly living, not just existing or surviving. People die every day with dreams that were never fulfilled dreams and hopes that could have changed the world. And just like that, it all ends with them.

We should live freely and with meaning. We should learn to give people grace, because we don’t know what others are going through. We don’t see their silent battles, the things they carry behind their smiles.

Loss is such a hard thing to deal with.

And now, let’s talk about losing people who are still alive.

Most people think loss only comes with death. But sometimes, the hardest goodbyes are to people who are still alive, that’s why most people crave for closure.

Grieving someone who is alive but no longer in your life… that kind of loss is different. You can’t reach out to them anymore, no matter how much you want to. They’re somewhere out there, living their life without you and somehow, they’re okay with it.

Every day, we lose friends we thought would last forever. We lose relationships with people we once envisioned our entire lives with. The picket fence dream we built in our minds, growing old together, having children all gone.

They walk out of your life, and suddenly, you’re no longer part of theirs. You watch from a distance as they live their moments, knowing those moments will never be yours again… only memories.

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And honestly, I think grieving someone who is still alive might be one of the hardest things to ever go through.

The truth is, loss never really leaves us, whether it’s the loss of a friendship, a relationship, or even the loss of a loved one to death. It stays in the little things, in memories, in random thoughts, in the silence where someone used to be. And as much as it hurts, I think I’d rather feel that pain than feel nothing at all. Because at least it means that at some point, something in my life meant everything.

In the end, I don’t think we ever truly get over loss. We just learn how to live around it, how to carry it in quieter ways. Some days it feels distant, almost like it never happened, and other days it comes back all at once. But maybe that’s what it means to have loved deeply there will always be something left behind. And even in the pain, there’s proof that it was real.

With love,

Thehalfsaidthings ❤️

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We don’t talk about female friendships enough or rather we don’t appreciate female friendship enough

Female friendships are the real definition of true love especially when you’ve met the right ones. True love doesn’t always have to be romantic; sometimes, it comes in the form of friendship. Female friendship. Those girls who are your ride-or-die, the ones you can’t imagine life without. The girls you’ve shared countless memories with laughed with, cried with, and talked about the future with. That’s real love.

I see people come online and talk negatively about female friendships, how they can’t be friends with the same gender because of all the drama and everything. And honestly, once upon a time, I was one of those girls. I used to say, “Oh, I prefer being friends with guys. There’s less drama, it’s easier.” In my defense, I grew up with boys and I was the only girl among four brothers so my mind was already wired to be more comfortable around guys. It felt like a built in setting.

Until I met my friends now. That’s when I understood what real female friendship is all about.

It wasn’t all perfect for us. There were a lot of dramas and misunderstandings, but those moments helped build the foundation of our friendship the very thing we stand on today. To me, those are the things you have to go through to truly understand each other. And choosing to stay, even after the misunderstandings that’s where the real friendship is.

Everybody comes from different backgrounds, with different upbringings and experiences. So you can’t expect everyone to be like you, and you definitely can’t treat everyone the same way. Some friendships need time to melt and blend together, while others are instant fire you meet and just click immediately, like missing puzzle pieces (Me and my bestie).

Trust me when I say not all friendships come with huge misunderstandings. Some just flow smoothly, while others require you to pass through the fire to be refined and we simply accept that.

I’ve had my own fair share of what it takes to be friends with girls, especially living together. And honestly, it was a lot the laughter, the quarrels, the late-night conversations, crying together, encouraging each other, partying together, and even giving advice we knew we weren’t going to listen to.

I remember how uptight and closed off I used to be before meeting the friends I have now. I didn’t say much, you couldn’t read what was on my mind, and I never talked about myself because I didn’t know how to relate with girls. We were all living together in a hostel at university, and it was my first time living with just girls, so it was kind of hard for me to open up.

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But it was with them that I learned it was okay to talk about everything and anything, to have different opinions and to be open in general.

I also remember seeing a lot of naked bodies, girls being comfortable walking around naked or in their underwear. That was honestly strange for me, as someone who didn’t grow up around girls. I would always look the other way… until I eventually joined them. “If you can’t beat them, join them,” lol.

Another shock I had about female friendships was malice. Oh man, girls can keep malice. I remember the first time I kept malice with a girl. She was my friend, my very close friend. We had a fight about something so irrelevant, honestly, and then we just stopped talking. I didn’t even realize we were keeping malice until I noticed months had passed and we still hadn’t spoken.

It was very weird for me. I acted like I didn’t care, but it was killing me inside. Like I said, she was very close to me, so it was hard. But eventually, we started talking again after months of silence. Till today, that’s the longest I’ve ever kept malice with anyone. (Malice is honestly trash it messes with your mental health.)

I remember an encounter I had in school. I was dating someone at the time, and the whole relationship kind of blew up and escalated. There were rumors going around things that could easily make me look bad, especially to people who didn’t really know me. Some people were already starting to believe them.

Then one of my friends mind you, we weren’t even very, very close; we were just part of the same friend group heard about it. And the first thing she said was, “I know my friend. She can’t do something like that.” Then she went to confront the person.

Honestly, in that moment, I don’t think she realized what that meant to me. But it’s something I will never forget.

My friends have shown up for me in so many ways that I can’t even doubt their love. I can’t even begin to recall everything because there’s just so much.

Was it when I had nowhere to stay in my 300 level and I called a friend, and she was willing to take me in without thinking twice? Or when I was posted to a state where another friend was, and she was even more excited than I was because we were going to be together? That one year with her was honestly out of this world I can’t even fully describe the experience, I love her and every moment with her.

We’ve been through so much together, and we’re still growing.

The late- night conversation are always my favorite, sitting down in the dark, listening to music, yapping about life , our love life’s and literally everything.

My friends means so much to me and I’m so grateful for them being in my life. I have learnt so much from them and they’ve become parts of me. And somewhere along the way, without even realizing it, I learned how to love and be loved through them.

I can really relate with Racheal from Friends when she said “yeah, I got my girls” because I actually do got them.

Now that we’re all adults with our own lives, trying to navigate everything, we still hold each other close to our hearts. Because we know we don’t always have to talk every day to feel the love we already understand the kind of friendship we share.

To me, that’s what truly matters. And at the end of the day, this is the kind of love I’m most grateful for.

Thanks for reading 🌹

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Thehalfsaidthings ❤️

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