Making room in my life for the important stuff has never been easy for me. I am probably the most nostalgic person I’ve ever known in real life and letting go of that is pretty tough.
I’ll get lost in old notebooks or saved greeting cards for hours. I often think about people from my past. I think about my successes and my mistakes, of which there are many of both.
But the older I get, the more respect I have for myself, too. I have higher expectations of the company I choose to keep because I ain’t got the time or the energy for anything else.
My Instagram feed will not be filled with photos of me in large groups of people in interesting social situations. No, I have few friends, but the ones I keep around I truly value and I think they value me.
I’ve got a quirky personality, I am often quiet, and I can be awkward. A lot of people don’t know how to work with that or accept that. But the people I keep around work through that and allow me to be me, and that has become center stage in my awareness of good people. They stick out like sore thumbs, the ones who try and listen and smile and ask questions.
I don’t have the time or the space for superficial interactions, for political drama or thinly veiled insecurities on social media, for people who chatter. I’ve found the down-to-earth people, the lovers, the encouragers, the listeners, and I ain’t got no time for the holier-than-thou’s. And damn if it doesn’t feel good to respect myself enough to make space for the real ones.