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Roots, Leaves, and Branches: Understanding the People in Your Life

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We’ve all been there—trusting someone only to be let down, or thinking a connection would last forever, only to watch it quietly fade. It hurts. But it also teaches. And sometimes, all you need is a new perspective to turn that pain into power.

There’s a metaphor I keep returning to. People in your life are like parts of a tree: some are leaves, others are branches, and a precious few are roots.

Leaves are seasonal. They show up when life is warm—when you’re doing well, when things are fun, when it’s easy to be around you. But when life gets cold, when adversity hits, they fall away. Their purpose isn’t to stay. They give shade, they might look beautiful for a time, but they’re not built to last. And that’s okay. Not every connection is meant to be permanent.

Then there are the branches—stronger, seemingly dependable. You think you can lean on them. But the moment life’s weight gets too heavy, they break. These are the people who offer support until it becomes inconvenient. They may mean well. But intention doesn’t equal capacity.

I’ve experienced this first-hand. I’ve had so-called friends who I listened to endlessly—through their heartbreaks, career rants, anxiety spirals. I showed up. I was the ear, the shoulder, the support. But on the rare occasion I needed to be heard—just to talk through something real—suddenly, they had to go. “Sorry, can’t talk now,” or worse, a hollow “that sucks” followed by a subject change. It took me a while to realize: I was leaning on a branch. And it cracked.

Then… there are the roots.

Roots don’t shout. They’re not always visible. But they hold you down when the storm hits. They anchor you. They nourish your growth. They’ve seen your mess and stayed. They show up not just when it’s easy—but especially when it’s hard. These people are rare, and when you find one, you protect them, nurture that bond, and let it deepen.

Understanding this tree metaphor isn’t about cynicism—it’s about clarity. You stop expecting leaves to act like roots. You stop resenting branches when they snap. And most importantly, you learn to recognize and value the roots in your life, and maybe, become a root for someone else.

Letting go of people who were only ever meant to be seasonal doesn’t mean you’re a bad person—it means you’re making space for deeper growth. It means you’re evolving.

So next time someone walks out of your life or lets you down, ask yourself: were they a leaf, a branch, or a root?

That one question might save you from years of misplaced energy—and lead you closer to the people who truly matter.

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