You Can’t Be Everything for Everyone: Honoring Growth, Letting Go, and Staying Soft
Today, many who follow the Gregorian Calendar start a new year. And for many, this means bringing in celebrations, setting new intentions and resolutions. I am of the belief that you can start your new year anytime. If the intent is to celebrate yourself, to set intention or move forward with a resolution — then may it find you and begin when you are ready. In the last year, the passing of Nikki Giovanni, a Black poet, activist, and elder whose words have inspired generations left me reflecting deeply on her legacy and the lessons she offered us about life, love, and growth. Giovanni once said, “A lot of people resist transition and therefore never allow themselves to enjoy who they are. Embrace the change, no matter what it is; once you do, you can learn about the new world you’re in and take advantage of it.”
Her words resonate now more than ever. Every year, I reflect on what growth I have done for myself. Growth isn’t always gentle. It often asks us to leave behind the things we’ve outgrown, to let go of people and roles that no longer align, and to confront the parts of ourselves that need healing. It’s an internal process, and often, it’s lonely. But it’s also where we find the soft, steady strength and wisdom that carries us through life’s rough times.
The Pressure to Be Everything
Many of us carry a quiet weight: the pressure to be everything for everyone. The dependable friend. The perfect partner. The overachieving professional. The pillar of strength for others. But in trying to meet every expectation, we often lose sight of ourselves — who are you without any of these labels? Who would you be if you did not have to be this version of yourself? And if you are this version, what is serving you in being so?
As the eldest immigrant daughter, I know this weight intimately. From a young age, I was the translator, the role model, the one carrying the dreams of generations before me. While I wasn’t necessarily taught to do any of this, I was expected in many ways to anticipate everyone’s needs, to sacrifice without question, and to be the steady anchor in the storm.
And while these experiences shaped my resilience and my ability to care for others, they also left little room for softness, for my own needs: my commitment to myself, my boundaries, my own voice, my own growth.
I’ve learned that we can’t hold it all. Or as the generation of this time would say — “you’ll crash out”. And even when we try, what we end up holding isn’t our own. Instead, we carry the projections, needs, and stories of others, while neglecting the tender parts of ourselves that long for care.
The Soft Work of Internal Growth
Growth is often framed as “hard work,” and it is—but it’s also soft work. It’s learning to sit with discomfort instead of running from it. It’s holding ourselves through moments of doubt, fear, or grief. It’s showing compassion to the parts of ourselves that feel messy, unworthy and the things in between that we don’t dare tell anyone else about. In a world that often tells us to harden ourselves, choosing softness is an act of quiet rebellion. It’s refusing to let the roughness of life steal your ability to feel, to care, and to love for both yourself and others. In a world that romanticizes. “a soft lifestyle” to have everything with the click of a button, true softness is awareness of the world around you and how you move.
And softness requires boundaries. It means saying no to what drains you and yes to what nourishes you. It means understanding that not everyone can come with you as you grow. And that’s okay. It’s allowing yourself the time to learn how to be and who you want to be.
Staying soft means:
Letting yourself cry when you need to.
Taking the time you need.
Allowing joy, even in small moments, to remind you why you keep going.
Being gentle with yourself when you fall short.
Finding the courage to rest when the world demands you keep moving.
Learning to apologize and take accountability for your actions and knowing it doesn’t define who you are all the time.
It’s in these acts of self-tenderness that we find the strength to navigate life’s challenges without losing who we are.
Honoring What We Leave Behind
As we grow, we inevitably leave things behind: versions of ourselves, relationships, habits, dreams. This isn’t a failure; it’s a natural part of life. Honoring what we leave behind doesn’t mean clinging to it but rather recognizing its role in shaping us and allowing it to rest. I have learned to practice gratitude in this way. From letting go of friendships and being thankful for the lessons those friends brought me to practicing boundaries and being thankful that I finally have the language to implement them.
Nikki Giovanni’s poetry reminds us of the beauty in this process. She celebrated the messy, imperfect journey of being human, showing us that growth isn’t linear but cyclical. We bloom, we wither, we rest, and we bloom again.
So What Comes After?
As I continue to reflect on Nikki Giovanni’s legacy, I’m reminded that we are not meant to be everything for everyone. We are deserving to be true to ourselves, to grow into the fullness of who we are, and to hold ourselves with love through every season of change.
In this new year — whenever it begins for you, I hope we honor the paths we’ve walked, the things we’ve outgrown, and the people we’ve become. As Giovanni taught us, to welcome the new world we’re in, even if it takes time to recognize it as home.
What are you learning to hold? And what are you letting go of in this new year, new season, new month?