There was a time when I mourned the loss of certain relationships, believing I had lost something irreplaceable. I gave parts of myself—my time, my energy, my emotional depth—so completely that walking away felt like losing a piece of my own soul.
But today, I see things differently.
I feel a deep sense of gratitude that those relationships ended when they did, instead of binding me into something permanent like marriage. What once felt like heartbreak now feels like protection. The very people I once prioritized above myself revealed their true nature when I needed them the most—and they were nowhere to be found.
That realization changed everything.
It made me question why I had invested so much of myself into people who, in the end, could not offer even basic support or sincerity. Even a good friend stands beside you in times of distress—so what does it say about those who claimed love, loyalty, or relations that are blood-line related, yet all of them failed to show up in utmost times of crisis?
For a while, I grieved—not just the relationships, but the emotions, time, energy, and tears I had poured into them. It felt like a loss. But now I understand: none of it was wasted. It was a lesson.
My heart may feel quieter now, perhaps even a little numb, but it is no longer naïve. It carries wisdom instead of blind trust. It has learned to see beyond words and recognize actions for what they truly are.
What I once perceived as pain was, in reality, a kind of divine intervention—a necessary fire I had to walk through to uncover the truth about the people in my life.
And for that, I am grateful.
Because sometimes, what feels like rejection is actually protection. And what feels like loss is, in truth, a powerful redirection toward something far more genuine and deserving.
And in walking through that fire, I received one of the most precious gifts of all - DISCERNMENT
I no longer see people only through the lens of who I hope they are.
I see them for who they reveal themselves to be, even if over a period of time.
I read between the lines, I notice what is unsaid, and I trust what actions consistently show me about them and their spoken thoughts and words.
That clarity and ability to sift through the projections did not come easily—it was forged through experience and fire of pain.
Yet, through it all, something within me refused to die.
With God’s grace, the love and light inside me still remain.
They may have dimmed at times, shaken by betrayal and abandonment, but they were never extinguished.
The empath, the giver, the part of me that believes in goodness and Divine — it still exists. Perhaps quieter, perhaps more guarded, but stronger in its awareness.
There were moments when I felt left behind, as though others had walked away in the middle of the journey, leaving me to continue alone. But even in that solitude and isolation, I now see a deeper purpose unfolding—one that is aligned with something greater than my immediate understanding.
And in the most unexpected ways, I’ve found affirmation. Sometimes through fleeting messages, sometimes through words that seem to arrive at just the right moment, as if gently reminding me that I am not alone in these realizations. like I received exactly similar resonating words in this short video
Maybe that is how the Divine works, subtly, quietly, but always precisely at the exact time, when needed.
So I continue forward, carrying not just the scars of what I’ve been through, but the wisdom it has given me.
And above all, the ability to discern what truly deserves a place in my life—and what never did.
Meraki Pegasus
Dr Racchana D Fadia
