Personal Growth: The Gift That Keeps on Giving (Whether You Want It or Not)

You ever have one of those moments where you think, "Okay, I’ve worked through this. I’ve processed it. I've moved on." And then—bam!—it shows up again, like an uninvited guest who never quite got the memo.

Or maybe you've met someone and thought, "They'd be perfect if they just changed this one thing." Fast forward, and not only are they still the same, but now you're looking at them like, "Who are you?"

Let's talk about why growth is a never-ending loop, why expecting people to magically change is a recipe for disaster, and why no matter how much work you do, life loves to throw in a little surprise, you're not done yet!

Personal Growth: The Gift That Keeps on Giving (Whether You Want It or Not)

I used to think that if I worked through an issue once, it was done. Like checking something off a list: Healed, processed, moving on! But then, somehow, it would show up again except now in a different form.

At first, I'd think, "Did I do it wrong the first time?" No. The truth is, self-awareness isn't like solving an equation with a final answer—it's like looking through a prism. You're seeing the same thing, but from a different angle, and suddenly it looks completely different.

Instead of getting frustrated (ugh, why is this still happening?) I've learned that each time an issue resurfaces, it's not because I failed, it's because there's another layer to work through. It's not a rerun; it's a new episode.

Think of it like a video game. You don't keep playing Level 1 forever—you move on to more challenging levels. But those early skills? You still need them. That's personal growth.

Relationships: They Won't Change, and Neither Will You (At Least, Not How You Think)

Ever met someone and thought, "They'd be perfect if they just changed this one thing"? Or maybe you told yourself, "I can make this work."

Fast forward, and... they're still the same. You're still the same. And now, the shiny veneer that made it all seem promising at first? It starts fading. For both of you. Then frustration sets in because suddenly you realize, "This person has changed, and I don't even know who they are anymore!"

Spoiler alert: they haven't changed. You just didn't see the whole picture at the beginning.

Save yourself the heartbreak and accept people as they are—or move on. 

Some will choose to stay in the relationship, and if they do, they need to continue working on their own issues regardless of what the other person does or doesn't do. Sometimes, that's the only way they'll get the message and yet there are others who stay in these relationships for years.

Whether that means you continue working on your own issues or you decide it's time to walk away, the bottom line is the same: people only change when they want to, not because you will it into existence.

So What's the Takeaway?

1. You're never done with growth. If something keeps showing up, it's not because you failed. It's because there's another layer to work through. Its refinement, not repetition.

2. People don't change just because you want them to. Accept them as they are or don’t. Just don't waste your time trying to mold them into something they're not.

3. If you stay, keep working on you. Whether you leave or not, your personal growth is yours alone. Keep doing the work for yourself, not in hopes that they'll get it.

4. Personal growth isn't a destination, it's a lifelong process. And sometimes, the answers may vary. Here's something to think about: Where do you see yourself in five years? 

At the end of the day, we’re all just navigating this thing called life sometimes gracefully, sometimes like we tripped over our own feet. Either way, the journey continues. Might as well keep learning, laughing, and moving forward.  

Are My Dogs Secret Agents on a Mission to Save Me from Technology?

 Look, I’m not saying my dogs work for some anti-tech resistance group, but the evidence is starting to pile up.

A couple of years ago, I had an Apple Watch. I wore it, used it, no issues. Then, one day, I took it off… and it vanished. I searched high and low. Scanned my entire house like I was running a crime scene investigation. Then, just to be thorough, I took the search outside, because, you know, maybe my watch had developed legs and wandered off. Nothing. It was as if the universe decided, Nope, you’re done with that.

Now, let’s fast-forward a bit. Enter: my Apple AirPods Pro. Fancy, expensive, and a staple in my daily routine—until one of my dogs (a different one this time, mind you) reached up, snatched them off the end table, and destroyed them. No subtlety. No mystery. Just full-blown annihilation, right in front of me.

At first, I chalked it up to my own carelessness. Leaving expensive gadgets within paw’s reach? Rookie mistake.Then I started putting the pieces together.

See, I’ve been paying close attention to technology, privacy, and energy. I’ve resisted Big Tech’s push to track my every move, refused to be funneled into their AI-driven rabbit holes, and stayed mindful of what aligns with me. And now, I’m realizing—maybe I wasn’t the one who eliminated those devices.

Maybe, just maybe, my dogs were doing the job for me.

I mean, think about it. The watch? Gone without a trace. No destruction, no evidence—just poof. The earbuds? Destroyed in plain sight, as if to say, "You’re not getting these back, lady."

It’s too weird to ignore. Considering all the information coming forward about Bluetooth exposure, tracking, and the subtle ways technology influences us… I don’t think this was random. I think these things were removed for a reason.

Now, does this mean I’ve got two little furry tech skeptics running around, making sure I don’t get too plugged in? Maybe. Or maybe the universe works in ways we don’t always recognize—sometimes through gut feelings, sometimes through missing objects, and sometimes through dogs with suspiciously strong opinions about what belongs in my life.

Either way, message received.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go check if my laptop is still where I left it.

I Would Never… Oh, Wait!

Gosh, I can’t count how many times I’ve said, I would never do that!

And yet, in between those moments, I remind myself—never say never. Because let’s be real—the second you do, it’s bound to happen. At least, that’s how it works in my world.

Come on, that has to have happened to you too… It’s okay if you don’t admit it. It’s even okay if you’re in denial. I have some of those situations in my life — denial. Like the fact that I am forever young. I do not relate to the word senior. Not now, not ever… unless, of course, it saves me money. And even then, I do it very discreetly.

Oh, I know there are those who toot their horn and wear it as a badge of honor—well, they can have my share. I’m perfectly fine in my little world of denial. Like I said, I’m forever young, full of energy, juggling too many projects, and honestly, I think it’s pretty darn cool.

However, denial has a way of creeping up, subtle at first… or maybe not so subtle. And that brings me to one of my latest I would never do that moments.

It’s called a fart.

I swore I would never say, I farted. Never. I don’t even like the sound of that word. Maybe it’s some deep-seated childhood thing. I remember my dad saying my mother could raise the roof with her… passing gas. No, actually, he said farting. And snoring.

I made a vow—I would never do that. Never. And for the most part, I haven’t. I’ve always said passing gas because, as I mentioned, the word fart sounds like something—like I was raised under a rock, completely void of culture. And you know what? That’s… well, pretty much true. So here I am, not only having said the word fart—also having done it.

Here’s where it gets funny.

Tonight, I farted. And my dogs, who were asleep, shot awake like it was a gunshot, scrambling to run for cover!

I laughed. And laughed. And laughed.

And then, of course, I had to share it with a few people. Their laughter made it even funnier.

And then, I had one of those Oh My Gosh! realizations—I had raised the roof.

I never expected that. Hmmm, then again… maybe it was inevitable.