There’s a quiet moment that doesn’t get talked about enough.
It doesn’t arrive with drama or disaster.
It comes softly—often late at night—when you realize you’ve drifted far from the person you once promised to be.
You remember who you were when you made those vows.
Certain. Idealistic. Confident that love, discipline, and good intentions would always be enough.
But life happened.
Responsibilities piled up.
Dreams were postponed.
Needs went unnamed.
And slowly, without noticing, you adapted—until one day you no longer recognized yourself.
This is where many people feel shame.
They ask, “What’s wrong with me?”
Why am I restless? Why do I crave something else when I already have so much?
The truth is uncomfortable but freeing:
You didn’t fail. You evolved.
The person you are today carries experiences your younger self couldn’t imagine. And sometimes, the rules you agreed to no longer fit the version of you that exists now.
That realization doesn’t automatically mean you should leave.
It doesn’t mean you should betray anyone.
But it does mean something inside you is asking to be acknowledged.
Many people silence that voice.
They distract themselves.
They moralize it away.
They convince themselves that longing is selfish.
Yet suppressed truths don’t disappear.
They resurface as resentment, emotional distance, quiet affairs of the heart—or sudden decisions that shock everyone, including the person who made them.
The most dangerous thing isn’t wanting more.
It’s pretending you don’t.
Growth isn’t betrayal.
Change isn’t dishonesty.
The real fracture happens when we cling to promises made by someone we no longer are.
The question isn’t whether you changed.
You already have.
The real question is this:
Will you have the courage to meet yourself honestly—before life forces the reckoning for you?
Mike m. luster 