Your “Not Today”: When Protecting Your Peace Looks Like Telling People to Back Off blog post

Let’s clear the air:
I’m not struggling with self-esteem.
I’m not wrestling with whether people like me.
And I’m not walking around hoping for approval like it’s communion wine.

I know who I am. I know what I bring. And I know the room shifts when I walk in—not because I’m loud (though, yes, I can be)—but because I’m aligned.

That said, even the strongest of us—those who’ve walked through hell barefoot and come out humming—can still get caught in a dangerous habit:
Letting too much slide.

Not out of grace.
Not out of maturity.
But out of numbness that snuck in disguised as peace.

The Subtle Slip from Strong to Silent

It’s easy to mistake emotional detachment for spiritual growth.
To confuse “not reacting” with being healed.
To think, “If I’m not bothered, then I must be centered.”

But here’s what I came to realize:

Sometimes letting things roll off your back isn’t strength.
It’s shutdown.
It’s resignation.
It’s spiritual dissociation wrapped in a pretty bow of “I’m just keeping the peace.”

And that’s not peace.
That’s pacification.
That’s you becoming emotionally flatlined in relationships that demand your silence to stay functional.

So what did I do?

I woke up.
I tuned back in.
And I said, “Not today.”

“Protect Your Peace” Ain’t Just a Hashtag

People love to say “protect your peace” like it’s this soft, floaty mantra—scented candles, silence, a little block-and-delete energy.

But real peace protection?
It’s boots-on-the-ground spiritual warfare.

It looks like:

• Saying “no” without five paragraphs of justification.

• Ending conversations when they spiral into entitlement.

• Letting folks misunderstand you, and walking away anyway.

Protecting your peace is not about being passive.
It’s about being present with yourself and choosing not to abandon your own needs in favor of someone else’s comfort.

False Empathy Will Guilt You Into Self-Abandonment

Now here’s where it gets spicy.

When you stop showing up on everyone else’s emotional terms, they’ll call it all kinds of names:

• Cold.

• Rude.

• Selfish.

• Ungodly.

• “Lacking empathy.”

But I’ve learned this:
What they call a lack of empathy is often the most radical kind there is.

Because empathy doesn’t mean joining someone in their chaos while abandoning your clarity.
It doesn’t mean breaking your own heart just to prove you care.
It doesn’t mean giving access to people who only show up when they need to offload their mess onto your soul.

True empathy sees pain and says:

“I love you. I see you. But I will not carry this for you while you continue to spill it all over me.”

Empathy without boundaries is a hostage situation.
And I’m no one’s emotional ATM.

When You Set Boundaries, Expect a Pushback Parade

Oh, they’ll come.
The offended. The entitled. The ones who only loved you when you were quiet, compliant, and useful.

They’ll say you’ve changed.

And you have.
You had to.

Because somewhere along the line, you realized that being a safe place for others was becoming a danger zone for yourself.
That’s not spiritual. That’s suicidal.

So now, your empathy includes you.

And yes, that will make people uncomfortable—especially the ones who benefitted from your discomfort.

The God-Sized Boundary Model

If anyone tells you boundaries aren’t Christian, remind them Jesus:

• Left crowds mid-need to rest.

• Told Peter, “Get behind me, Satan.”

• Didn’t chase after Judas.

• Didn’t perform on demand.

• And flipped actual tables when people tried to commercialize sacred space.

Jesus didn’t confuse empathy with enablement.

He showed love, yes—but love with limits. Love with discernment. Love that said, “I will not let you destroy the sacred for your convenience.”

If Christ can love and still have boundaries, so can you.

Final Note: It’s Not Cruel—It’s Clear

You can love deeply and say no.
You can be generous and still guard your energy.
You can be Christlike and still protect your peace.

This isn’t about building walls—it’s about locking your doors at night and being wise about who gets a key.

Because peace is sacred.
And so are you.

And every time you say “not today” to someone’s manipulation, chaos, or emotional freeloading?
You’re not being rude.
You’re being resurrected.