How Far Are You Willing to Go to Protect Your Peace?
I’m a sweet and considerate person—those who know me well can vouch for that. Of course, not everyone will like you, but overall, I've been told I’m kind and sweet. Sure, I have my vices—who doesn’t? But am I gentle? No, I'm not. I'm reserved, yet wild around those I consider mine.
Growing up, one of the hardest things for me was "detachment." When I love someone—be it as a friend or more—I give it my all. I don’t do things halfway; I'm either fully in or not at all. I think you get the concept.
I started my journey as a makeup artist nine years ago. Before that, I worked various jobs to pay for my training because my mom believed that what you work for lasts longer. I was a receptionist, a cleaner, a seamstress, an errand girl, and a salesgirl, among other roles. My sisters even called me "any work" because I would do anything legitimate to make money, and I didn’t mind.
When I entered university, my already busy life became even busier. I wasn’t in a relationship initially, but eventually, I got involved with my boyfriend—now my fiancé—of seven years. Despite being in the same school, we rarely saw each other. I was always in the library, at work, or in class. I didn’t let him visit me at work because I was so focused on my goals.
Minimal relationships gave me peace. I had just two friends in university, chit-chatted with classmates, and then left. This routine protected my peace—no drama, no gossip, just a serene life.
Six years ago, in 2018, I met one of the most amazing people in my life. She employed me, and it felt like joining another family. I had a routine: home, hostel, school, or my boss's studio. I made friends but kept my distance—no one needed to be in my business, and I stayed out of theirs.
Now, back to my detachment issue. Letting go was tough, especially when someone I cared about disappointed me. It hurt deeply. But I came across a quote: “In doing everything for the sake of Allah, you remove the chances of being disappointed by people.” It made me realize I was expecting the same love and loyalty I gave to others. Life doesn’t work like that.
It took me almost six months in 2019 to master the level of detachment I needed. I’m not saying it doesn’t sting when people disappoint me, but I hardly have expectations from anyone—not even my parents or partner. I go with the flow, focus on myself, and protect my peace selfishly.
If someone’s actions don’t sit well with me, I give them chances to adjust. If nothing changes, I withdraw and limit our conversations. I don’t like drama. People close to me know this. I used to be sassy and blunt, but now I realize my opinion is just that—mine. If someone’s opinion offends me, I withdraw and limit communication. In more than four years, I’ve had no confrontations—well, one recently, but I spoke my peace and let it go. People always know what they’re doing, and I haven't achieved all I want in life, so why stress over trivial things?
I mind my business and am extremely playful—not because I don’t have worries, but because what can I do about them? I always say, “Expect the unexpected from anyone,” and life won’t throw you off balance. We are human; it’s in our nature to err, so I don’t take things too personally. I go to great lengths to guard my peace. I’ll give up years-long friendships if they threaten my peace. If my left thumb disrupts my peace, I’ll cut it off.
Finding peace isn’t easy, so I remove anything that brings negativity into my life, no matter who it is. This post isn’t directed at anyone, but it’s also addressing those who feel I distanced myself from them. Maybe you didn’t do anything wrong, but if I see my presence affects your peace, I’ll remove myself. I always advise people: be selfish about your peace of mind. Do not compromise it for others; you’ll be grateful you didn’t. I have very few friends, and this has made my life easier and more fulfilling.
So, my question for you today is: to what length would you go to guard your peace?
