No More Explaining Myself to Be Understood

From my earliest childhood memories—when I had no other way to express the ache of being abandoned, of not being chosen —I learned to put my thoughts and feelings on paper.

Writing became my only voice.

When no one cared how I was feeling…When I was told I was too sensitive, too much, too needy…When speaking up led to silence, blame, or rejection…I wrote.

And that pattern carried into my adult years.

Any time I was hurt, misunderstood, or mistreated, I wrote.

Not just for myself—but for them.

Letters. Texts. Paragraphs. Long, emotional explanations—trying to help them see how their words or actions affected me. Hoping that if I could just explain it the right way, something would finally click.

Spoiler alert: it never did.

I Thought If They Understood, They’d Care

I truly believed that if I could just articulate my pain clearly enough, the other person would have an “ah-ha” moment. They’d soften. They’d apologize. They’d choose to show up differently.

But what I’ve come to painfully realize is this:

People who care, don’t need a novel to understand you.

And people who don’t care, won’t suddenly change because of one.

Still, I find myself doing it.

I’ll catch myself writing out everything I wish I could say—hoping, deep down, that this time the outcome will be different.

That this person will be the exception.

But more often than not, I’m met with the same result: deflection, defensiveness, or silence, never the grace or understanding I needed.

The Problem With Explaining Too Much

The truth is, when we write those long messages, we’re not just offering our truth—we’re offering it up for interpretation.

And that’s risky.

Because your intentions can be misunderstood.

Your emotions can be twisted.

Your vulnerability can be dismissed—or worse, used against you.

Sometimes, your words don’t land at all.

Sometimes, they trigger someone’s guilt or shame.

And instead of bringing clarity, it creates distance.

It’s not that you’re wrong to want to be understood.

It’s just that some people never intended to understand you in the first place.

I’m Still Learning

I’d love to say I’ve stopped doing it altogether—that I never send the texts, never write the paragraphs, never hold out hope for a better reaction.

But the truth? I still do sometimes.

I’m learning to catch myself in the moment.

To pause.

To ask: Is this bringing me peace? Or am I hoping they’ll finally see me?

If I’m honest, I still hope.

I still want to be heard, validated, seen.

We all do.

But I’m also realizing that the kind of peace I’m searching for won’t come from being understood by the wrong people.

It comes from understanding myself.

So What Do I Do With the Words Now?

I still write. I always will.

But now, I am writing for my healing—not for someone else's understanding.

I write to feel grounded again.

To remember who I am.

To process what I feel without trying to translate it for someone unwilling to listen.

Because I’ve learned—sometimes painfully—that my voice is sacred.

And I don’t need to keep handing it to people who don’t know how to hold it.

Here’s What I Know

If someone genuinely values you, they won’t need convincing.

They won’t make you beg to be respected.

They won’t call your feelings “too much.”

They will listen—even when you struggle to speak clearly.

They will offer grace—even when your growth is still messy.

They will meet you—not perfectly, but consistently—with care.

And for those who don’t?

Let them.

Let them misunderstand.

Let them pull away.

Let them avoid accountability.

That’s not yours to fix.

Because the people who are meant for you won’t make you question your worth.

And the peace you’re building is too sacred to hand over for temporary comfort or clarity.

This Is Not About Bitterness—It’s About Boundaries

I’m not bitter. I’m not angry.

I’m just tired of misplacing my energy.

I’m tired of hoping my words will turn someone into the person they never intended to be.

I’m tired of shrinking to be more easily accepted, acknowledged, or respected

Now, I choose peace over explanation.

Now, I choose me.

It's time you start to choose you.

You are your greatest love story. ❤️

💬 If you’ve ever found yourself using your voice just to be dismissed, I hope this post gives you permission to stop overexplaining—and start reclaiming.

-Heartfully Nicole