Not everyone will stay — and that’s something the heart learns the hard way.

A few days ago, I saw a TikTok post from Rica Peralejo where she talked about friends who had cut her off — and how she’s learned to be okay with it. What she said really hit me, so I decided to write this.

Twelve years ago, I suffered a stroke that changed everything I knew about life. The world I once moved through with ease suddenly felt distant, almost unreachable. The routines, the people, the pace — all of it dissolved into a kind of nothingness I couldn’t name. At first, it broke me. I grieved the life I used to have and the person I thought I’d always be. But time, in its quiet and unhurried way, taught me acceptance. Slowly, I began to understand that sometimes loss doesn’t ask for permission — it just arrives, and you learn to live differently.

When something so life-altering happens, people drift. Not out of cruelty, but because change creates distance — and not everyone knows how to cross it. The ones who used to check in stopped calling. Conversations thinned. Familiar faces faded into memory. At first, I tried to hold on, but the truth is, life was simply moving on — for them and for me.

Losing touch with people you once held close can feel like rejection, but often it’s just life rebalancing itself. We grow apart, even when our hearts don’t mean to. And that’s not something to fight; it’s something to understand.

For a while, I thought it was my fault. I wondered if I’d changed too much, or if people just didn’t know what to say anymore. But connection is a living thing — it needs space to breathe. Some ties loosen naturally, and that’s okay. Not every friendship ends with a goodbye. Some just fade into quiet — and that silence, as painful as it feels, can also be peace.

We often talk about letting people go, but rarely about being the one who’s been let go — the one unfollowed, unread, unseen. It stings, but beneath that ache lies something softer: the realization that you can still wish them well without wishing yourself away. You can still love the memories and accept that they belong to another season of your life.

When someone drifts, it doesn’t erase what you shared. The laughter, the comfort, the shared moments — they were real. They simply belong to a time that has passed. And that’s okay.

Maybe they needed a different circle. Maybe their lives filled with new chapters. Or maybe they, too, are learning how to navigate their own changes. The reasons aren’t always ours to understand. And peace doesn’t come from knowing why — it comes from learning not to need the answer.

It’s okay to be unfollowed. It’s okay to be remembered differently, or not at all. It’s okay to keep walking, even if no one’s beside you the way they used to be. What matters is that you keep choosing the life that’s still here — the people who reach for you now, the moments still waiting to unfold.

You don’t have to chase what’s meant to drift away.
You don’t have to fight to be kept.

Letting others move on isn’t failure — it’s grace. The quiet kind that frees you to grow, to heal, to begin again.

It’s okay when people unfollow you in real life.
It simply means you’re both making space — to change, to breathe, and to move forward in your own ways.