When Depth Creates Distance (and Why I’m Learning to Let That Be Okay)
Reflections on truth, embodiment, and outgrowing connection without bitterness
I’ve been realizing something about friendship, relationships, and connection in general, especially for intuitive, empaths, or anyone really who values emotional and energetic honesty and alignment over comfort.
For people who survive by convincing themselves that everything is fine—who stay functional by avoiding deeper inner truths—their friends and loved ones who can see beneath the surface eventually become unsafe. Not because those friends are doing anything wrong, but because their presence quietly asks something of them. Awareness. Accountability. Feeling.
No matter how lovingly the truth is reflected, intentionally or not, it can make people uncomfortable when they are not ready, willing, or resourced to face what’s actually going on within them or their lives. Sometimes it isn’t about resistance, trying to be manipulative, or controlling. Sometimes it’s capacity. Sometimes people simply do not yet have the tools, language, courage, or safety within their nervous systems to meet what’s being mirrored back to them.
I think I’ve finally reached the point where I can truly accept this for myself.
I used to be the friend who sensed what was really going on, but hesitated to name it. I didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable or risk losing connection, so I’d soften things, sit with them quietly, or avoid going all the way there, even when I felt the distance growing anyway.
Now I move a little differently.
I’m less interested in masks, performances, or pretending everything is fine when it doesn’t feel that way inside. I care more about emotional honesty than maintaining familiarity. I would rather sit in the discomfort of being alone than stay connected through self-abandonment.
The relationships I keep around me now reflect that. And I think that’s why I was genuinely surprised when some of the last long-term, stable connections in my life shifted so drastically, yet so quietly, all at once. There were no major fallouts. No dramatic conversations. No clear explanations. Just silence that grew too loud for me to ignore.
For a long time, that confused me. Until it became clear that no one really likes to be checked or called into truth when they’re not ready. So what do you think happens when someone who once made herself small suddenly steps forward confidently as a TAROT READER, someone who literally reads energy, whether it’s being spoken aloud or not?
Probably avoidance. And honestly… it feels like that’s what happened.
I’ll never really know, I never received any other answer than “everything’s fine!”. I’d reach out, offered support, and showed up in all the ways I had the capacity to myself. And lets just acknowledge the simple fact that maintaining friendships at this age is more difficult just because we have individual lives to lives, burdens to carry, and dirty laundry to hide. I always understood that and tried to give that grace as well as understand that it was always being given.
There was a time in my life when entire environments and social circles were built around me being overly dependent on everyone. I needed those connections to feel loved, to feel supported, to feel like I mattered. So yeah, at that time, I truly felt like I needed them. And I was afraid that’s what pushed them away. But eventually, I realized it had nothing to do with me being a bad friend or overly attached.
But sometimes it really isnt that deep. Sometimes silence isn’t rejection, it’s simply what feels easiest for someone who doesn’t have the capacity to engage honestly. I’m learning to let people naturally fall to the side when we’re growing in different directions.
The moment I started choosing myself consistently, whether because I felt tired of complaining, tired of shrinking, or because I realized I was attached to the wrong people for the wrong reasons, everything shifted. I woke up. I became more peaceful within myself. And I also simultaneously entered the least social period of my life. Loss layered on top of loss, on top of loss.
This isn’t about anyone being right or wrong. It’s about different needs and different seasons.
One person may be showing up from a Two of Cups place, seeking mutuality, openness, and emotional presence, because theyre also providing that to themselves. But the other could be rooted in Queen of Pentacles energy, prioritizing stability, structure, and simply holding life together on the surface.
Neither approach is wrong; they just don’t always move at the same pace or depth. And sometimes, distance becomes inevitable.
I think I’ve always known this. I’m just more at peace with it now.
This is why people who lead with depth can feel lonely at times. Not because they are difficult or demanding, but because seeing beneath the surface can quietly disrupt what others are trying so hard to keep intact.
This has shown up in my work as well. I’m building a life and career centered around sensing what others cannot see yet, and speaking truth into spaces where it isn’t always welcome. Of course, that makes me unsafe to those who aren’t ready. I’ve shared insights and readings that were never acknowledged or supported, not because they were inaccurate or unkind, but because they made people uncomfortable.
I’m no longer taking that personally.
Something interesting I’ve picked up on as well…Over the past month, I’ve been noticing specific repeating number patterns everywhere:
121. 122. 1212. 1220. 1221.
121: It’s a reminder of self → connection → self. You don’t abandon yourself to be close to others anymore.
122 often means “you’re doing the right thing, even if nothing looks loud yet.”
1212 is a threshold number. This isn’t just awakening, it’s integration. You’re not “waking up” anymore; you’re learning how to live as who you woke up as.
1221 is a mirror-closure number. It’s like the energy saying: “You understand now. You don’t need to keep revisiting this.”
I started writing this on 12/20. Today is 12/21!!!
At first, I didn’t understand why they kept standing out to me. But I see now that they weren’t trying to tell me something new. They were confirming something that was already being integrated.
These numbers reflect movement between self (1) and connection (2), truth and relationship, closure and embodiment. Not closure that seeks relief, but closure that becomes discernment. Not endings that need explanations to ease discomfort, but endings that feel complete because the lesson has been lived and understood.
That realization feels especially potent right now, with the Winter Solstice today marking the return of the light, and the recent New Moon yesterday activating both Sagittarius and Capricorn energy at once.
In tropical (western) astrology (a seasonal system, tied to the Earth’s equinoxes and shows more of your immediate personality), this lunation falls in Sagittarius, which for me lives in the fourth house. This has been a deep internal clearing. Rewriting emotional foundations. Understanding how my sense of safety, belonging, and home has been shaped by the past, and consciously choosing to build something different from the inside out.
In the real sky, the New Moon is aligned with Capricorn, activating my fifth house. This is where creativity, self-expression, joy, and authenticity live. With my Neptune and Uranus in Aquarius here, my creativity and authenticity have never been aligned with performance. They’ve ALWAYS been aligned with sharing truth. It’s about revealing what’s unseen, breaking patterns, and allowing my voice to be unconventional, intuitive, and honest.
I was always meant to be a guide in some way; I just had to break through some of my own illusions first to get there.
In my Vedic chart (which uses sidereal [the fixed star positions in the sky] astrology to reveal more about your destiny and life path), Sagittarius rules my fifth house, holding Pluto and Uranus in Capricorn. This speaks to creative transformation through truth, through destruction of false narratives, through radical authenticity. Capricorn then moves into my sixth house, holding my Vertex and Aquarius South Node. This shows the karmic work of releasing old ways of over-functioning, over-giving, and tying my worth to usefulness, while stepping into a more sovereign, embodied rhythm of living and working.
All of this mirrors what I’ve been integrating emotionally. I’m not starting over. I’m continuing, but with a steadier nervous system, clearer boundaries, and a deeper trust in myself.
I’m okay with losing people along the way of discovering who I truly am, fully blossomed, independent, and confident in my voice and my gifts. I’m learning to release with love instead of bitterness. To let distance happen without turning it into blame, resentment, guilt, or shame.
Some connections don’t end because of conflict; they fade because growth starts pointing in different directions.
I’m not here to curate a life that just lphotographs well or sounds good when talked about in a social setting. I want the real thing. Fully embodied. Genuine fulfillment, real connection, and deep satisfaction. And if honoring that means letting certain connections shift or fall away naturally, I’m finally okay trusting that now.
Some people are only meant to walk with you for the truth they have the capacity to hold.
If you’ve been looking back a lot lately, questioning yourself, revisiting old dynamics, it doesn’t automatically mean you’re failing to move on. You might just be finishing your own integration…
You don’t need proof to honor your intuition and your truth. Integration can feel just as uncomfortable, frustrating, and cyclical as spiraling, but it’s still progress.