We Are Not Good People.

we know we're lying. Even to ourselves.

(The picture of Jordan Blake. Pinterest. It painted tranquility in the truest form)

I’ll try to make this as quick as I can, so you can go on with your life.

These past few weeks, I’ve been sitting with myself a lot. And sitting with myself always invites other things to sit with me too - memories, confessions, the things I’ve avoided naming. They come quietly, and they stay.

One truth that keeps showing up is this;

Human beings are deeply flawed.

I say this softly. Not with hate. Not with heat.

The voice in my head is calm, maybe even broken.

Not loud. Not angry. Just honest.

We are flawed.

We betray people we love.

We perform kindness.

We envy our friends.

We celebrate others with claps that don’t reach the heart.

We pretend to be supportive, but deep down we’re measuring ourselves against them.

We lie with smiles. We compare.

We compete in secret. We hate in silence.

And we know it.

We know it.

We like to think we’re good people.

But if we’re being honest, most times we are just controlled. Polished.

We’ve trained ourselves to hide the mess, not clean it up.

Still, in all this, I don't want to be that person.

I want to be happy. Genuinely. For myself and others.

Not the kind of happy that needs to be seen or posted.

The quiet, unclenched kind, the kind that doesn’t carry weights.

I want to pray for my enemies and mean it.

Not in a performative, “I’m better” way. But in a real, soul-deep, “I want your life to be better” way.

I don’t want to carry bitterness like it’s part of my personality.

I don’t want to keep waiting for people to act right before I let go.

I don’t want to keep loving only those who love me perfectly.

I just want to live light.

Soft. Unhooked.

Honest. Free.

Sometimes, I wonder if it’s even possible to live like that.

To be soft in a world that rewards hardness.

To release without receiving closure.

To bless people you don't trust.

To really let go of what hurts, of who left, of who didn’t love you like they should’ve.

Maybe it won’t ever be perfect. Maybe I’ll never fully arrive there.

But I think it's possible to try.

To catch myself mid-resentment and say, “This is not who I want to be.”

To lay it down, again and again.

To choose the kind of peace that doesn’t shout, doesn’t perform, but stays.

Maybe that’s the life I want.

Not perfect but honest.

Not always light but always reaching for it.

And if I’m being really honest,

I think what I want… is to be a child again.

To wake up unburdened.

To love without second-guessing.

To trust that someone bigger will handle what I can’t.

I crave that.

That softness. That surrender. That light.

Till I write you again.

Love,

Hosanna.💐💜