I’m a thinker—too often, an overthinker. My mind tends to run in circles, dissecting situations from every possible angle. And this week, I found myself thinking about a conversation I wanted to have with a friend who has been struggling in just about every area of life. They've been contemplating reentering a relationship that once brought them pain, and as I considered what to say, one question stood out to me: Are you better for it?

At some point, we all experience it—someone who insists on keeping us tied to who we used to be. Maybe it’s an old friend who won’t let go of past mistakes, a family member who constantly reminds you of where you fell short, or even your own mind replaying old failures like a broken record. It’s frustrating. You’ve changed. You’ve grown. But somehow, they refuse to see it.

Man, this is a tough concept. I spent so much of my life trying to control people—my family, my children, my romantic relationships—hoping they would treat me the way I wanted, the way I thought I deserved. I wanted them to make better choices, to prioritize me, to love me in the ways I longed for. And to be transparent, a lot of that came from my own wounds. When you grow up in dysfunction—without structure, consistency, or the affirmation every child needs, it’s easy to spend adulthood trying to force those things into place. You end up demanding the security and validation you never received, often to the point of control. But here’s what I learned the hard way: Control is an illusion.

I love this blog because I get to vent and expose myself. And lately, I’ve been asking myself a hard question: Is lack of money really my problem, or is there something deeper going on? On the surface, it seems simple. If you have all the money you need, all your other problems will be solved. Right? You’d pay off your debts, tithe faithfully, give generously, and handle your responsibilities with ease. You’d finally be in control. But what if that’s not true?

You know the type. The one who's got all the knowledge—book smart, highly learned, whether you’ve got a degree or not. The friend everyone admires for your intelligence and brilliance. People turn to you for advice, and you're quick to dish out solutions that sound practical, logical, and solid. It works for everyone else, but... not so much for you.

These days, everybody loves to talk about toxic people . . . how to avoid them, cut them off, protect your peace, and all that. Therapists and counselors push the idea that we should set boundaries and steer clear of anyone who drains our energy. And sure, that’s great advice. But here’s a question most people don’t ask: