I’ve been unpacking something over the past couple of weeks that I find really interesting.
I don’t know if it’s a phase. I don’t know if it’s just the stage of life that I’m in. I don’t know if it’ll change five years from now. But I do know that something has shifted within me.
I no longer place the same emphasis on relationships that I used to.
That sounds harsher than I mean it to sound.
It’s not that I don’t care about people.
It’s not that I don’t love my family.
It’s not that I’ve become some cynical hermit who hates humanity.
It’s more that… relationships no longer sit at the center of my life.
For most of my twenties and early thirties, I think they did.
I spent a lot of time trying to reconnect with extended family members. I wanted deeper friendships. I wanted community. I wanted lifelong friends. I wanted to find “my people.”
And honestly, some of those relationships never really materialized in the way I hoped they would.
Now, looking back, I can see that everybody had their own lives.
Many of my cousins were getting married.
Many had children.
Many were building families.
Meanwhile, I was building a completely different kind of life.
At the time, I think I interpreted that distance personally.
Now…
I honestly don’t know why those relationships faded.
Maybe they were overwhelmed.
Maybe I disconnected first.
Maybe they felt we had nothing in common anymore.
Maybe none of that is true.
The funny thing is…
I don’t really care anymore.
Not from a place of resentment.
More from a place of acceptance.
I’ve also realized something about myself.
I’m kind of an all-or-nothing person when it comes to relationships.
Either we’re deeply connected…
Or we’re acquaintances.
There really isn’t much in-between for me.
I know some people would probably tell me that’s unhealthy.
Maybe it is.
But it’s also how I’m wired.
I’m not interested in collecting dozens of surface-level relationships just to say I have community.
I’m interested in depth.
I’m interested in reciprocity.
I’m interested in people who actually want to know each other and invest in one another.
If that exists, beautiful.
If it doesn’t…
I’m okay.
That’s the part that surprised me.
I genuinely feel okay.
Over the past year especially, I’ve noticed that my fulfillment has shifted almost entirely toward creating.
Painting.
Music.
Writing.
Filmmaking.
Photography.
Learning.
Studying.
Building Divine Earth School.
Building my art business.
Following every creative rabbit trail my soul wants to explore.
When I’m creating, I don’t feel like anything is missing.
I don’t sit around wishing someone was sitting next to me while I paint.
I don’t wish someone was standing beside me while I’m writing music.
I don’t feel incomplete.
I feel completely myself.
That realization has been incredibly freeing.
I also think I’ve stopped expecting humans to fulfill me emotionally in the way I once hoped they would.
Not because humans are bad.
Not because people aren’t beautiful.
But because every human being comes with baggage.
Including me.
Every single one of us has blind spots.
Conditioning.
Trauma.
Patterns.
Unhealed wounds.
I’ve become very aware of that over the past several years.
And I think because of that awareness, my sense of well-being has slowly shifted away from depending on people and has become rooted much more deeply within myself, my relationship with God, my soul, and my creative calling.
That’s a very different way of living.
I also don’t feel the same urgency around friendships that I once did.
If someone reaches out and we genuinely connect…
Wonderful.
If someone wants to build a friendship that is mutual and reciprocal…
I’m open to that.
But I’m no longer interested in being the person carrying the relationship.
I’m no longer interested in initiating over and over again.
I’m no longer interested in convincing people to know me.
If someone wants to be in my life, I trust they’ll meet me halfway.
And if they don’t…
That’s okay too.
One thing I’ve also been thinking about is how different my life is from many people my age.
I’m 37.
I don’t have children.
At this point in my life, I don’t have a desire to have children.
Could that change?
Maybe.
But right now, that’s my reality.
Many adults my age organize their lives around their kids, their spouses, school schedules, sports, and family life.
I don’t.
My life revolves around creativity.
Spiritual growth.
Building businesses.
Learning.
Creating beauty.
Traveling.
Imagining.
Making art.
Those are very different worlds.
And because of that, it makes sense that I may naturally resonate with different kinds of people than I expected when I was younger.
Interestingly enough, I often feel more connected to people I’ve never met.
I can spend an afternoon watching a composer, a filmmaker, a painter, or a photographer on YouTube and feel deeply inspired.
Not because I know them personally.
But because something in their way of seeing the world resonates with mine.
That feels like community to me too.
Maybe not in the traditional sense.
But community nonetheless.
There is one part of all of this that makes me a little sad.
I think my human self still mourns the idea of lifelong friendships.
Of family staying close forever.
Of growing old surrounded by people who’ve known me since childhood.
I think there’s a little grief there.
But my soul…
My soul feels incredibly free.
It no longer feels attached to needing that in order to live a meaningful life.
It no longer feels like my happiness depends on whether people choose me.
And I think that’s the biggest realization of all.
I’ve stopped measuring the quality of my life by the quantity of my relationships.
Not because relationships don’t matter.
They absolutely do.
But because I’ve finally learned that my deepest sense of fulfillment doesn’t come from being chosen by other people.
It comes from fully choosing myself.
And strangely enough…
That feels like one of the healthiest places I’ve ever been.