🏝️The Island I Didn’t Have to Live On

🧳 Feeling Like the Outsider

Growing up, I always felt like an outsider somehow.

At school, I could never keep a group of friends for longer than a semester. Outside of school, I somehow always ended up being either the “mean” friend or the overly loyal friend to people who secretly didn’t like me. In college, it was the same story. I switched friend groups like I switched classes. I never felt settled anywhere.

I’m an only child on my mom’s side, but on my dad’s side I have two older brothers and a sister. They’re all much older than me, and with different mothers we never really formed relationships. The age gap didn’t help either. Even with them, I always felt like the outsider — like somehow their feelings mattered more than mine. It even seemed like my dad felt that way too sometimes. He would go above and beyond for them, and it often felt like I was left with whatever scraps were left over.

In my family, my mom was the outsider too. She never felt like she truly belonged or that anyone really loved or wanted her around. Naturally, some of that passed down to me.

So whenever we felt like someone didn’t like us or didn’t want us there, we would isolate. We’d remove ourselves before anyone else could.

🌆 A Life Built in Distance

Because of that, I spent a lot of my life as a loner. I had friends and acquaintances, but not in the way other people seemed to. I spent a lot of time by myself because it felt easier that way.

So when I moved away to college at 18, and then moved to Houston after graduating, it almost felt normal. Being in a new city alone didn’t feel that different from how I had already been living.

Over time, I stopped going home.

In college I went back every summer. But once I moved into my own apartment and started building my life, the visits became fewer and fewer. I didn’t go home for almost five years — until my grandfather’s funeral a couple of years ago. Then the next time I went back was this month for my dad’s memorial.

For years I asked myself what I was running from by never going home.

Was it my childhood? The reminders of what I experienced growing up? The feeling that I made it out while so many people I grew up around didn’t?

I could never quite pinpoint it.

🪞 Rethinking the Narrative

But this time going home felt different.

It didn’t feel like a dark cloud hanging over me the whole time. It actually felt… welcoming.

There were family members who wanted to see me but couldn’t because I was only there a few days. And the family I did see, I realized I hadn’t seen in over ten years.

My nieces were babies the last time I saw them. Now they’re in high school, driving, with their own phones — and I don’t even have their numbers.

My cousins’ kids are growing up too, and I’ve never really gotten the chance to know them because I’m never around.

And that’s when something clicked for me.

Sometimes, in order to avoid hurt or disappointment, I isolate myself so deeply that I end up putting myself on an island I never actually needed to be on.

🤍 Letting Myself Belong

When other people talk about going home to see their families, their eyes light up. For me, when I used to talk about family, I would almost say I didn’t really have one. I told myself nobody cared about me, nobody wanted to see me.

But after this visit, I realized those thoughts were stories I was telling myself to manage disappointment.

My family isn’t perfect. It’s not the picture-perfect version people imagine.

But they are still my family.

And they are the only one I have here.

This trip made me realize that the island I built for myself might be the very thing keeping me from the relationships I could still have — in spite of everything else.

Disappointment is inevitable in life. In every relationship. In every family.

So why make it worse by purposely excluding myself before anyone else can?

Sometimes it’s easier to operate from the narrative we’ve told ourselves for years instead of facing the truth.

Yes, there were times growing up when I felt excluded or unwanted. That part is real.

But that doesn’t mean I have to create so much distance that I miss out on everything that could still exist now.

My dad’s passing softened my heart in a lot of ways.

It softened my heart toward love, toward relationships, and toward forgiveness.

But it also reminded me of something simple and sobering:

You only get one family.

And once they’re gone, there’s no starting over.

🌷 Thank You for Reading

Thank you for taking the time to show up for yourself and sit with this.

Unlearning old stories isn’t easy, especially the ones we’ve carried for years to protect ourselves.
But there’s something powerful about choosing to see things differently.

I hope this reminds you that you don’t have to keep yourself on an island to stay safe.

✨ Affirmation Set:

• I don’t have to isolate myself to protect my peace.

• Every space I enter is meant to reject me.

• I am allowed to experience closeness without expecting disappointment.

• Distance is not the only way to feel safe.

📝 Soft Return Reflection Prompts:

• In what ways have I isolated myself before anyone else had the chance to?

• In what ways have I isolated myself before anyone else had the chance to?

• Am I protecting myself from real harm… or from the possibility of disappointment?

Until Next Time💫