Other people's emergencies don't have to become yours.

Other people’s emergencies don’t have to become yours. No, I'm not a bitch for stating this.

We all know someone who chaos just… clings to.

They’re always putting out fires, never getting ahead. And when you watch from the outside, it honestly looks like they’re choosing the hardest possible path.

I have a family member like this.

Ease is not part of their life, no matter how much they claim they want it.

They were conditioned somewhere along the line to believe:

➡️ It has to be hard to be worth it.

➡️ Survival mode is safer than calm.

➡️ Chaos = attention and love.

And let me be clear: life is shitty sometimes. People hit rough patches, and in those times they absolutely deserve love and support. That’s not what I’m talking about here.

We’re living in a time when the world’s problems are everywhere — wars, tragedies, school shootings — and it’s easy to get numb and say “not my monkey, not my problem.” There’s a wisdom in noticing that, and a wisdom in holding space for what truly is yours.

I’m talking about the people who live in a constant cycle of chaos because it feels more familiar than peace.

And here’s the thing — it’s programming. It can be changed.

You can nourish your nervous system so ease and flow feel good instead of threatening.

You can set boundaries so you’re not dragged into storm after storm.

You can build enough self-worth that simple joy finally feels safe.

But if someone refuses to do this work? Their emergencies don’t have to become yours. Because every time you rush in to save them, you’re not just helping — you’re feeding the very pattern that keeps them stuck.

Their chaos doesn’t need to run your life.

Lesley