๐ญ When Someone Leaves Your Groupโฆ
Oof. You feel it in your chest before you even click the name. Another member has left. And if you're anything like me, your first reaction is visceral: Disappointed. Sad. Even a bit rejected, if weโre being real. Then comes the spiralling: Should I message them? Would that be too much? What if they donโt even reply โ will I take that even more personally? But hereโs what I actually did I chose connection over silence. Curiosity over assumption. And what I received back stopped me in my tracks. Three women messaged me back โ each with a version of the same, unexpected truth: โจ โItโs not your group โ itโs me.โ โจ โI need this kind of space, but Iโm not used to letting myself have it.โ โจ โI donโt do self-care. And being in your group was a loving nudge I wasnโt ready for yet.โ None of them said: โIt wasnโt worth it.โโ The vibe was off.โ You didnโt deliver.โ Instead, they told me: "Iโm not ready to stop running." "I donโt know how to rest." "I donโt prioritise me โ and thatโs confronting." And honestly, that hit even deeper. It reminded me that sometimesโฆPeople donโt leave because your space isnโt powerful. They leave because it is. Because youโre holding up a mirror. Because your softness challenges their hustle. Because your message makes them feel seen in ways theyโre not used to. So if you're in this space-building game โ inviting people into something slower, truer, more grounded โ please donโt take every departure as a failure. Sometimes, theyโre just not ready. And when they are, your door will still be open. ๐ซถโจ