I did something really scary tonight. No, I didn’t skydive. No, I didn’t finally open that drawer full of tangled cords that I swear I’ll organize one day. I did something way scarier.

I cut someone out of my life.

And honestly? It was long overdue.

But because I have this deep, irrational need to be liked (thanks, childhood trauma and social conditioning!), I hung on. I tolerated the bad behavior. I excused the red flags like they were beige flags. I even tried to fix this person, as if I were some kind of human Home Depot. And in return? I got treated like a human doormat—Welcome!—except instead of wiping their feet, they stomped all over my sanity.

Now, let me be clear: I know my intentions. I know I’m not mean. I know I’m kind. I know I love deeply, and I care too much about the people in my world—sometimes too much. But I’ve also come to a radical, earth-shattering conclusion: It’s okay to have a small circle.

Like, why am I out here collecting toxic acquaintances like Pokémon? I don’t gotta catch ‘em all.

Because these days, I’m all about quality, not quantity.

Look, I don’t mind other people’s quirks. Lord knows I have my own. I overthink texts, I have very strong opinions about cheese, and I must touch soft blankets in stores, or I will physically combust. But the difference? I work on my stuff. Every single day.

I self-reflect. I take accountability. If someone tells me I’ve hurt them, I don’t gaslight them into oblivion. I don’t say, Well, maybe you’re just too sensitive. No, I say, I’m sorry. What can I do to make it better? And then—wild concept—I actually follow through.

But there are a few things I don’t tolerate:

• I don’t tolerate being called names.

• I don’t tolerate being told I’m not worth it—because, baby, I am.

• And if you come for my family or friends, oh-ho-ho, you just activated my fight-or-fight response (because, let’s be real, I don’t do flight).

And this person—let’s call them Dremo, because I just made that up and I’m committed now—broke all of the above rules. More than once.

We’ve done this dance before. They say something cruel, I call it out, they spin some tragic excuse about how hard their life has been, and suddenly I’m the bad guy for expecting basic decency. Classic.

But tonight? It hit differently.

I got a message. Mean-spirited. Condescending. And then, the cherry on top of this emotional garbage sundae? They called me pathetic.

…Pathetic.

Now, I may be apathetic sometimes (because, let’s be honest, not everything deserves my energy), but I am NOT pathetic. I have worked too hard to not be pathetic.

And for a brief, shining moment, I wanted to rage. I wanted to channel 4.5 years of pent-up, oh-no-you-didn’t and how-dare-you into one beautifully composed, scathing message. I wanted to unleash the full power of my vocabulary and obliterate this person with words they’d need a thesaurus to understand.

But then? I did something even more powerful.

I went silent.

Because you know what’s worse than a fight? Being irrelevant.

So instead of engaging, I simply… erased them.

I blocked them on every social media platform.

Deleted them from my phone.

Made sure they have exactly zero ways to reach me.

And that? That is going to make them nuts.

And you know what? Not. My. Problem.

Because sometimes, goodbyes aren’t just necessary. They’re liberating.

And this time? I’m not mad. I’m not even sad.

I’m just done.