I wish I could say they won’t. That everyone you love will always meet you where you are, that your kindness will be met with grace, that promises will be kept, and hearts won’t break. But that’s not the truth.

This year we’ve been let down by several service providers for whom our expectations were higher than they could rise to. Even though they weren’t that high, at least in our opinion. And of course, there are the friends who let us down. But who hasn’t experienced this?

People will let you down. Even the ones who love you. Maybe especially them.

It’s not always malice or carelessness. Sometimes, it’s fear. Or confusion. Or their own unhealed pain flaring up and spilling over. Sometimes they just don’t know how to show up. And sometimes they simply… don’t. Who knows why.

This used to devastate me.

I would hand someone my trust, my loyalty, my time, and when it wasn’t returned with the same tenderness, I’d retreat into the cave of hurt. “What did I do wrong?” “Why wasn’t I enough?”

Sound familiar?

But here’s what life—and some hard-earned soul work—taught me: their letdown is rarely about me. Or you.

It’s about where they are in their journey. It’s about the tools they have (or don’t have). And yes, sometimes it’s just about life being messy and humans being heartbreakingly human.

It doesn’t mean we stop trusting. Or loving. Or showing up with open hearts. But it does mean we hold ourselves a little more gently when the disappointment comes.

We remember to anchor in our truth, even when someone else’s behavior tries to toss us off course.

The heartbreak of being let down is real. It’s painful.

But it’s not the end of the story.

Because in the rubble of that disappointment, there’s an invitation to fortify our own boundaries. To practice discernment. To grieve what we hoped for—and to let go of what was never ours to hold. (Are expectations ever a good idea?)

And maybe, most of all, to return to ourselves with more compassion than ever.

If you’ve been let down recently, I see you. I know the sting. Take your time. Mourn loss if you need to. Then remind yourself: your worth was never dependent on how someone else treated you.

Keep your heart soft, but your soul wise.

We’re all just doing the best we can with what we’ve got.

Some days, that means flying high.

Other days? Just not dropping the ball might be all someone has in them.

It’s not about excusing bad behavior.

It’s about understanding its source, choosing what we’ll accept, and walking forward anyway—with strength, softness, and a whole lot of self-love.

You deserve relationships that nourish, uplift, and support you. And those exist. Even if you have to walk through some heartache to find them.

So don’t let the inevitable disappointments turn you hard. Let them turn you inward and allow them to deepen your wisdom.

Let them remind you: the most reliable home you’ll ever have is the one you build within yourself.

(And in a few days, I’ve got a follow on post about how many chances we should give people….)