What's Meant to Be Will Always Be♡
I know that feeling all too well – the aching truth that 'it will always be you even if it can't be us.' It’s a paradox, isn’t it? To have such a deep connection, a person etched into your heart, yet circumstances or choices mean a shared future simply isn’t possible. I’ve spent countless nights wrestling with that exact sentiment, wondering how to reconcile my enduring feelings with the reality of separation. It’s a unique kind of grief, mourning a future that never was, or a past that ended too soon, all while still holding onto the ghost of a 'you.' For a long time, I viewed these situations as personal failures or immense losses. Every 'no,' every closed door, felt like a direct rejection of my worth or my desires. But then I encountered a powerful quote, often attributed to Dr. Steve Maraboli, that completely shifted my perspective: 'Every time I thought I was being rejected from something good, I was actually Being re-directed to something better.' This wasn't just a catchy phrase; it was a profound truth that started to unravel the tangled knots in my heart. I vividly remember a time when I was convinced a particular relationship was my 'forever.' We had an undeniable bond, and even after it ended, that phrase 'it will always be you' echoed in my soul. The pain of 'it can't be us' was almost unbearable. I felt utterly rejected, like I had failed to hold onto something precious. But looking back now, through the lens of that quote, I can see how that perceived rejection was actually a critical redirection. That heartbreak forced me to look inward, to rediscover parts of myself I’d neglected. I explored new hobbies, pursued personal growth, and built stronger friendships. It wasn't easy, and there were days I longed for what was lost. But slowly, I started to see the 'something better' emerging. It wasn't necessarily a new partner immediately, but a stronger, more resilient me. It was learning self-love, understanding my own boundaries, and realizing my happiness wasn't solely dependent on one person. This isn't to say that the 'it will always be you' feeling completely vanishes overnight. Sometimes, a piece of someone stays with you, a quiet acknowledgement of the impact they had. But the Maraboli quote taught me that closure doesn't always mean forgetting; it often means acceptance. Acceptance that what was meant for you won't pass you by, and what passes you by wasn't truly meant to be, at least not in the way you imagined. Embracing the idea of redirection has been incredibly liberating. It reframes what feels like a setback into a journey of discovery. When you're holding onto that 'it will always be you' feeling, allow yourself to acknowledge it, but also ask: what new path is opening up for me? What new 'something better' is waiting, perhaps in a different form than I expected? Trusting this process, believing in a larger narrative where even rejections serve a purpose, can bring immense peace. It’s about understanding that destiny isn't always a straight line; sometimes, its most beautiful detours are disguised as endings.
