Never sacrifice your peace waiting for someone to figure out what they want.

Never sacrifice your peace waiting for someone to figure out what they want. If they’re unsure about where you fit in their life, you don’t have to become unsure about your worth in yours.

I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately. Because sometimes protecting your peace gets misunderstood. It can sound like cutting people off, walking away, or deciding someone is bad for you or somehow unworthy of your time, your love, or your heart. And sometimes, yes, there are people and situations we absolutely need to walk away from. But sometimes it isn’t that simple.

Sometimes the person who is confusing your heart isn’t cruel. They aren’t intentionally trying to hurt you. They may actually care about you very deeply. Maybe they’re in a bad season. Maybe they’re young. Maybe they’re confused. Maybe they’re trying to figure out who they are and what they want their life to look like. Maybe they have their own wounds, fears, or circumstances they haven’t worked through yet. Or maybe—and this one can be the hardest to accept—they simply aren’t meant to be that person in your life.

And none of those things necessarily make them a bad person.

But they also don’t mean you have to keep putting your heart on the shelf while you wait for clarity that may or may not ever come.

I think this is where we can get ourselves into trouble. When someone has our heart and things become uncertain, it’s really easy to start living in the waiting. We stop fully showing up. We stop making plans. We stop letting ourselves experience joy because some part of us is waiting to see what happens with them. We become emotionally preoccupied with a situation that hasn’t actually been decided.

And someday, we may look back and realize we missed pieces of our own life because we were waiting for someone else to figure out theirs.

I don’t want to do that.

I don’t want to look back someday and regret the things I didn’t do, the people I didn’t love well, the memories I didn’t make, the opportunities I didn’t take, or the joy I didn’t allow myself to feel because someone else couldn’t figure out where they stood.

Protecting your peace isn’t checking out of life. It’s actually the opposite. It’s choosing to stay present in your own life. It’s continuing to laugh, continuing to love, continuing to work toward the things God has put on your heart, continuing to make memories, continuing to show up for the people who are showing up for you, and continuing to become the woman or man you’re called to become, even when your heart is uncertain.

Someone’s inability to recognize your worth does not diminish your worth. And I want to be careful with that statement because I don’t necessarily mean that the other person is somehow “unworthy.” That isn’t what I’m saying at all. They may be an incredible person. They may have so much good in them. They may have a beautiful heart. They may just not be capable of meeting you where you are right now. Or maybe your paths simply aren’t meant to continue in the way you hoped.

That can hurt.

But painful doesn’t mean worthless.

I’ve also been reminded that our feelings are real, but they aren’t permanent. If you’re hurt, you’re hurt. If you’re confused, you’re confused. If you miss someone, you miss them. If you feel hopeful, that hope is real too. We don’t have to pretend our feelings aren’t there or shove them down because they’re inconvenient.

But feelings are guides, not always destinations.

They can show us what matters to us. They can show us where we’re hurting. They can show us what we desire. They can show us where we don’t want to stay anymore, or where we desperately want to stay. But feelings change. They come and go. They get stronger and then softer. They can be affected by circumstances, conversations, memories, disappointments, hope, fear, and so many things we don’t even realize are influencing us.

So I don’t want to build my entire identity or my entire future around what I feel on one particular day.

Because there is something far more certain than my feelings.

Isaiah 43:1.

“But now thus says the LORD, he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.”

You are His.

Not when someone chooses you. Not when someone understands you. Not when someone finally figures out what they want. Not when a relationship works out the way you hoped. Not when you feel confident. Not when you feel loved. Not when you feel certain.

You are His when your heart is completely confused.

You are His when you’re grieving. You are His when you’re hopeful. You are His when you’re letting go. You are His when you’re waiting. You are His when you’re walking forward.

And that certainty doesn’t change with your feelings.

That’s what I want to hold onto.

Because feelings can tell me something about where I am, but they don’t get to tell me who I am.

God already settled that.

He created me. He knows me. He called me by name. I belong to Him.

And that means I don’t have to chase someone else’s clarity to find my own. I don’t have to convince someone of my worth. I don’t have to shrink myself so someone can feel more certain. I don’t have to put my life on hold while someone decides whether they have room for me in theirs.

And I don’t have to make someone the villain just because they aren’t able to be what I hoped they would be.

Sometimes we can love someone and still let them go. Sometimes we can understand someone and still choose distance. Sometimes we can have compassion for someone’s season without allowing their season to become ours.

And sometimes protecting your peace simply means saying, “I don’t know what you’re going to choose. But I know what I’m going to choose. I’m going to keep living.”

I’m going to keep loving. I’m going to keep growing. I’m going to keep laughing. I’m going to keep making memories. I’m going to keep becoming. I’m going to keep saying yes to the life God has given me.

Because I don’t want to wake up years from now and realize I checked out of my own life waiting for someone else to check into theirs.

Maybe someday their path leads back to mine. Maybe it doesn’t. Maybe the story changes. Maybe the person I thought would be “that person” in my life turns out to be someone who was only meant to walk beside me for a certain season.

I don’t have to know all of that today.

I just have to remember who I am.

And whose I am.

My feelings may change. My circumstances may change. People may change. Relationships may change. Seasons may change.

But Isaiah 43:1 doesnt:

“I have called you by name, you are mine.”