Releasing the Burden of Fixing Others

There is a specific kind of peace that comes when you finally stop trying to fix a broken man and

just hand him over to God. For the longest time, I pitied him.

I blamed his family trauma and his aunt’s addiction for why he never made anything of himself.

But that pity was actually a trap that wasted my entire thirties. I held onto a fantasy

while enduring the reality of his physical hits and verbal daggers. I begged him to

leave, and he refused. I stayed because I was afraid of his intimidation

and addicted to the potential of who he could be. But I finally realized that his life is

not mine to feel and his mess is not mine to clean up. I still feel empathy,