Burn Your Crocs

One of the hardest forms of growth is the kind that separates you from the people who raised you. Nobody prepares you for that. They teach you about outgrowing friends, partners, habits, but not outgrowing your own blood.

Family is supposed to be safe. They’re supposed to love you in a way the world can’t. But sometimes the people who share your DNA are the same people who don’t recognize your evolution. They still talk to you like you’re the younger version of yourself. They still expect you to be the fixer, the emotional sponge, the strong one, the silent one, the “good child.” They still treat you like what they remember, not who you’ve become.

That’s when the distance begins. Not distance out of anger, but distance out of survival.

You start realizing that peace is not a luxury, it’s a requirement. And you start noticing that every time you return to certain family members, you have to shrink your voice, mute your personality, or soften your truth just to keep the peace. At first, you think something is wrong with you. Then you realize: nothing is wrong… you just grew.

Growth feels like rebellion to people who refuse to evolve.

Some family members only understand you when you stay small. They loved who you were when you needed them, but they don’t know what to do with you now that you’ve learned how to need yourself. And that’s where the tension comes from: The old you served their comfort. The new you serves your purpose.

Outgrowing your family doesn’t mean you stop loving them. It means you stop letting the environment that wounded you pretend it’s the place that can heal you. It means you stop participating in cycles just because they’re familiar. It means you stop accepting roles you never agreed to.

Sometimes the healthiest thing you can do is love your family from the distance your healing requires.

Yes, it hurts.

Yes, the guilt creeps in.

Yes, you wonder if you’re wrong for choosing peace over “tradition.”

But choosing yourself is not disrespect. It is self-respect.

The truth is: some family members won’t understand your boundaries until they experience life without the version of you that overextended, tolerated, and self-abandoned. And that’s okay. You weren’t born to be the emotional caretaker of anyone’s unhealed trauma…not even your family’s.

Outgrowing your family is not betrayal. Betrayal is when they expect you to stay the same just so they can stay comfortable.

You get one life.

And you’re allowed to choose the people who honor it, even if they don’t share your last name.