(A quiet thought about feeling safe with people)
Noticing the calm ones
Lately, I’ve been paying attention to the people I feel calm around. Not the loud, exciting ones, or the ones who always have something to say. But the ones where everything in me feels like it can breathe a little deeper when they’re near.
They don’t expect anything extra. I don’t have to entertain them or explain myself. I can be quiet, or slow, or a little all over the place, and it doesn’t shift anything between us. It just is, safe, still, kind.
And I think that’s something worth noticing.
Because when life gets loud, or when your thoughts won’t settle, those are the people you want close. Not the ones who ask you to be more cheerful, or fix your mood, or explain what’s wrong when you’re not sure yourself. But the ones who quietly take a seat next to you and stay, without needing anything in return.
A different kind of connection
We’re told that connection is about effort, about deep conversations, about showing up for people. And it is. But it’s also about energy, about how your nervous system reacts when someone walks into a room.
Do you brace a little?
Or do you settle?
Some people leave you feeling like you need a nap after every chat. Others make you feel like you just exhaled for the first time all day.
Lately, I’ve found myself craving the latter. The soft spaces. The ones that don’t pull or push, just sit next to you and let the silence be full instead of awkward.
And those spaces are rare. But they matter more than we realise. Especially during the seasons when we’re quieter, slower, maybe even a little bit more raw. In those moments, the right people don’t just keep you company, they give your heart a moment to rest.
No performance required
I think a good relationship, in any shape, feels like a place where you can take off the day. No performance required. No version of yourself needing approval.
I don’t need big declarations or perfectly timed texts. I don’t need someone to understand every detail of me.
I just want to feel like I’m not being slowly drained by someone who never learned how to listen.
Like I’m not working to be loved.
And maybe that’s the shift,
from impressing people, to being with them.
A small wondering
So I’m wondering quietly, the way you do when the house is finally quiet and the kettle’s just boiled,
Who in your life makes you feel like your shoulders can drop?
And who, even with the best intentions, leaves you feeling like you’re tiptoeing inside your own skin?
Maybe it’s time to choose more of the first kind.
Maybe it’s not about cutting people out, but letting the soft ones in more often.
I don’t know about you, but I’m learning to follow the peace.
Warm greetings from a figuring out relationships at her own pace mom