One of the principles my pastor teaches is that relationships are spatial.

The closer someone is to you, the more they can help you, and the more they can hurt you.

When relationships become problematic, therefore, we have three options: retrain, reposition, or retire.

1. Retrain: We can teach people new ways to treat us.
2. Reposition: We can recognize that they cannot safely, or healthily hold the level of access they once did, and we can move them.
3. Retire: We can recognize that this relationship has run its course, and we can no longer walk with this person who once held a role in our lives.

Lately, I’ve been examining some relationships that have really shifted over the past few years

And a big part of my growth process has been recognizing where I have held toxic ties that created bondage. I kept people close, because on some level, in a sense, they had tenure. So in my mind, they were basically unfireable.

And yesterday, as I listened to someone with an opposing viewpoint, I briefly challenged the conclusions I had drawn.

Was it really so bad that I needed to cut the tie?

If I had already taken the steps of affirming that the disrespect, and dishonor, and dishonesty were not ok, did I really need to take the additional step of disconnecting?

And I realized, with gratitude, that the issue wasn’t hurt. It was that I could no longer trust that the person who hurt me had my well-being at heart.

And it was a freeing revelation.

I’m not mad. I’m clear.

I have realized that I am worth balanced, healthy, trustworthy relationships.

And I don’t have to apologize for it, but I do have to make the changes.

It doesn’t mean I don’t love you. It means I’m learning how to love me.

And I think this is a great place to stand.

Some of us spend our youth in parasitic, painful relationships.

Some of us spend our whole lives there.

Maybe we’re scared to be alone.

Maybe we gain affirmation from the attention we get, even if it ultimately stifles or degrades us.

Maybe this relationship scratches the itch created by a foundational wound. We’re still trying to prove our worth to a parent, or an ex, or an authority figure – whatever person definitively harmed us.

Whatever our reasons, we keep hanging on to the thing that hurts.

We keep hugging the cactus, because the spines match perfectly with the holes in our souls.

The poet Shane Hawley says “It is the curse of an addict to chase the thing that destroys you.”

Some of us chase it.

Some of us catch it and never let it go.

Some of us feel chosen because it caught us.

Whatever the reason, we cling to the painful. We protect our access to poison. We never experience the And we never learn who we truly are, because we are not willing to spend a season not knowing

In this season I’m reconsidering a lot of the ways I do things.

If you can identify, I pray you do, too.

I pray you embrace the people that embrace you.

I pray you give no parasite tenure in your life.

And I pray you stop hugging cactuses.

Some holes just need to heal.

(Photo Credit: Julia M Cameron )