The People Who Only Loved the Smaller Version of You
The People Who Only Loved the Smaller Version of You
Find a comfortable position.
Allow your body to settle.
Let the earth hold you for a while.
You don’t need to carry your story right now.
You don’t need to defend your choices.
You don’t need to explain your growth.
For this moment, simply arrive.
Take a slow breath in through the nose.
And gently exhale through the mouth.
Again.
Breathing in and breathing out.
One more time.
Breathing in.
And letting go.
Notice the places where your body is still holding tension.
The jaw. The shoulders.
The chest. The belly.
See if they can soften just a little.
Not because everything is resolved but because you deserve a moment of peace, even in the middle of becoming.
Take another breath.
Slowly in. Slowly out.
There comes a moment in many of our lives when we begin to change.
Not dramatically. Not overnight.
But little by little.
We learn to speak up. We learn to set boundaries.
We learn to trust ourselves.
We begin listening to our own voice instead of constantly seeking permission from others.
And strangely, not everyone celebrates that.
Sometimes the people who were comfortable with the quieter version of us become uncomfortable with the stronger one.
The version that says no. The version that asks for more.
The version that no longer shrinks itself to keep the peace.
And when that happens, it can feel confusing.
Because we often assume that love means wanting someone to grow.
But not everyone loves who we are.
Some people love who they thought we would remain.
Take a slow breath in.
And exhale softly.
Yoga teaches us that suffering often begins when we cling.
When we cling to what was.
To who we used to be. To who we thought someone else should be.
But Life moves.
People change.
Rivers change.
Seasons change.
The body changes.
And yet we often expect ourselves and others to remain frozen in time.
But growth was never a betrayal.
It is the nature of life itself.
Take another breath.
And notice what happens in your body when you consider this:
You are allowed to evolve.
You are allowed to outgrow old stories.
You are allowed to become unfamiliar to people who only knew the version of you that survived.
Perhaps there are parts of you still grieving the loss of being understood.
The loss of being chosen. The loss of being seen by someone you loved.
Let those parts be here. No need to rush them away.
Because grief is often the price we pay for becoming honest.
Take a slow inhale.
And a slow exhale.
Imagine standing in Mountain Pose.
Feet rooted into the earth. Spine rising toward the sky.
Not rigid. Not defensive.
Simply steady.
Mountain Pose does not ask permission to be a mountain.
It doesn’t apologize for taking up space.
It doesn’t become smaller to make the valley comfortable.
It simply stands in its truth.
This is yoga.
Not just what we do on the mat.
But what we practice in our lives.
The courage to remain connected to ourselves.
Even when others misunderstand us.
Even when others prefer who we used to be.
Even when our growth disappoints people who benefited from our self- abandonment.
Take another deep breath in.
And slowly let it go.
Perhaps not everyone will come with you into the next chapter.
Perhaps not everyone will recognize the person you are becoming.
That doesn’t make your growth wrong.
It simply means your path is your own.
And maybe real belonging is not finding people who love the version of you they created in their minds.
Maybe real belonging is finding people who make room for your becoming.
People who celebrate your expansion.
People who are not threatened by your light.
People who do not ask you to become smaller so they can feel bigger.
Take one final breath in.
And gently exhale.
Feel the earth beneath you.
Feel the breath moving through you.
Feel the quiet strength of your own presence.
And as you remain here for a few moments longer, remember:
The people who are meant for you will not fear your growth.
They will not punish your healing.
They will not resent your strength.
They will witness your becoming and say,
“There you are.”
And most importantly,
may you become that person for yourself.
