Let Them Fall — But Be There to Catch Them

"There's so much intimacy in understanding. Someone who doesn't understand you is not going to know how to love you because they don't know who you are." — Anonymous.

I didn't plan to write today. In fact, I had plans to hang out with a friend. We were meant to catch up over food, laughter, and the usual. But she got caught up with work, understandably. Life does that.

So, there I was, dressed, halfway out the door, sitting in my car with time on my hands and nowhere to be. Instead of sulking, I decided to take myself on a little solo date coffee shop therapy, "my type", in Asake's voice.

I headed to that familiar corner café I love, the one that always smells like coffee beans and peace. I ordered a cappuccino and a croissant (because, honestly, what is life without a warm, flaky croissant?). I found a window seat, pulled out my iPad, and just… sat.

That's when the thought hit me again.

A few days ago, I heard it in a sermon clip about the power and pain of letting people fall and how love sometimes means not stepping in to save someone.

Whew.

Because the truth is, I've always been the fixer, the friend who sees the red flags before anyone else does, the one always trying to soften the fall, offer advice, or give a heads-up. And for a long time, when people didn't listen, I took it personally.

I felt rejected. Ignored. Unheard.

But I've come to realize that they weren't rejecting me. They just weren't ready to hear it. And that's okay.

Some lessons can't be explained. They have to be lived.

And that's hard to watch, especially when it's someone you love. You want to protect, shield, and drag them away from the edge. But sometimes, the most loving thing you can do is step back and let them learn, grow, and fall.

Not because they're being foolish. But because experience is the best (and sometimes only) teacher.

And you? You just have to be there. Not with "I told you so." But with "I'm here."

"There's so much intimacy in understanding…"

Understanding means accepting that someone may need to take the long way around. That they might get bruised along the journey. But you choose to love them anyway. You choose to stay close even when it hurts a little.

So, if you've ever been frustrated because someone you care about didn't take your advice… breathe.

Let them figure it out.

And when they come back, heart in hand, lesson learned: Don't meet them with judgment. Meet them with grace.

Because love isn't just about preventing the fall.

It's about being there, arms wide open, when they're ready to be caught.

Anyway, the coffee was warm, the croissant was perfect, and this unexpected hour alone gave me the right space to write what I didn't even know I needed to say.

Thanks for sitting with me.

Until next time.