The Space Between Us

Sometimes, Aunt C’Anna wants to run away.

Not because she doesn’t care.

Because defending herself to the people close—again and again—gets heavy.

When you’re trying to build something good and real, it hurts to feel like you have to explain your heart over and over.

It hurts when the people you love think your boundaries are a rejection, instead of an invitation to grow together.

Running away? That’s not how we do it anymore.

Not here. Not in the Grove.

We don’t cut people out without thought.

We create space: gentler, smaller, more intentional spaces.

We learn what we can truly offer others; and what isn’t ours to carry.

Boundaries aren’t cruelty.

They’re a kind of honesty.

They say: I want to stay connected. I just can’t be everything for everyone. You are putting too much on me.

Here’s the truth:

If you’re part of Aunt C’Anna’s life or the life of anyone walking this messy, beautiful path: there are three options:

1. You talk to me. You have a real conversation. You don’t leave expectations unsaid and project them onto my silence. Or leave me saying too much while you say nothing.

2. You take a sideline. Not out of spite, but because you recognize when staying too close is causing harm to both of us.

3. You step away with love. You focus on your life, your healing, your growth. I will still wish you well. I will be here, if you are ever ready to grow together.

I’m building something with open hands now. Something gentle not weak.

No more clutching.

No more shrinking.

I want you to be part of my life.

I really do.

But not at the cost of losing myself again.

The Grove I’m growing isn’t just a dream.

It’s my future. I need it to thrive now more than ever.

Every moment spent wrapped up in drama, unmet expectations, or hurtful silences takes away from that.

Takes away from the soft place I’m trying to build; not just for me, but for anyone who needs it.

This week had good roots.

The kind that ran deep: bright, blooming, full of possibility.

It could’ve been a week we didn’t forget.

But storms came.

Not in the Grove, but around me.

And they pulled me away from my Wildflowers.

So I’ll carry it forward:

all the stories we didn’t finish, the seeds we didn’t plant.

The Grove is still listening.

Next week, we’ll start where we left off.

Because stories like these?

They deserve to be heard fully.

If we are open,

If we are kind,

If we choose truth over performance,

There is room for all of us.

🌸 — Aunt C’Anna