Somewhere along the way, I realized how exhausting hate really is. It drains you quietly, like a phone on low battery that never quite charges back up. You tell yourself you’re fine, that holding onto that resentment or anger is justified — but deep down, you know it’s just heavy. It eats at your peace, your sleep, your joy. And for what? To prove a point no one remembers or to hold a grudge no one cares about?
I don’t have energy for that anymore. I don’t want to keep replaying the things people said or did, or how unfair life seemed at certain moments. I’d rather save my energy for things that fill me up — for people who make me laugh till it hurts, for small acts of kindness that ripple outward, for moments that feel like light breaking through a cloudy day.
So now, it’s simple: I either love you, wish you well, or hope you heal. If you’ve brought goodness into my life, I love you for it. If our paths don’t align anymore, I still wish you well — genuinely. And if you’ve hurt me or left scars where there used to be trust, I just hope you heal. Because hurt people hurt people, and I refuse to keep that cycle spinning.
There’s so much freedom in letting go. You stop trying to understand every wrong or rewrite every ending. You stop being defined by who disappointed you. You start to reclaim your peace — and peace feels like power. Not the loud, showy kind, but the quiet confidence of knowing you’re not ruled by bitterness.
The world can be harsh enough on its own. I’d rather not add more hate to it. So I choose love when I can, grace when it’s hard, and distance when it’s necessary. No drama, no revenge, no explanations. Just a calm “I hope you heal,” and I move forward.
Because at the end of the day, my energy is sacred. And I want to spend it on what lifts me, not what drains me.
Kenrick Vaz 