Girl, can I tell you something?
For a long time, I thought if someone liked me, cared about me, was interested in me or even just seemed like a good person,
that was enough reason to let them in.
{Not necessarily into my home.}
I mean into me.
My thoughts. My plans. My problems. My past. My relationships. My time. My emotional space.
If I liked you, I was open.
If we connected, I shared.
If you needed me, I showed up.
And if you seemed genuinely interested in getting to know me, I didn't see much reason to hold back.
I thought that was what being authentic looked like.
But as I've gotten older, I've realized something:
Being authentic doesn't mean everybody gets access to everything.
Privacy isn't dishonesty.
Discernment isn't being mean.
And having boundaries doesn't mean you've suddenly become cold.
Sometimes it simply means you've finally learned that access to you should have levels.