There’s a particular sting that comes with realizing I missed the ⚠️ warning signs ⚠️ — the red flags 🚩🚩🚩practically waving like parade banners while I smiled and said, “No, no, they’re probably just having a rough day.” It’s not stupidity, and it’s not willful blindness. It’s my reflex to hope. I want to see the best in people so badly that I mentally photoshop out the glaring flaws right in front of me. I smooth the edges, soften the colors, and convince myself that the weird comments, quiet manipulations, or subtle (and not so subtle) disrespect are just “quirks.” Because, of course, I’m kind, patient and understanding — and hope is louder than common sense on most days.

Personally, I think there’s something almost sweet about that instinct. I want to believe that people can be the version of themselves they claim to be. I want to take their words at face value and not attempt to read between the lines or overthink anything. I want connection, not caution tape. And as much as I never thought I would be, I am an expert at giving second chances, third chances, and the “well… maybe they didn’t mean it like that” benefit of the doubt. It’s not that I didn’t see the red flags; it’s that I was so busy rooting for the person I hoped they were. Unfortunately, that optimism sometimes doubles as a blindfold.

But here’s the shift — I don’t need to become a cynical hermit who trusts no one and sees doom in every shadow. I just need to slow the hell down. Take my time reading someone’s character instead of falling for the edited trailer they show me at the start. Pay attention to how they handle discomfort, disappointment, boundaries, and my “no.” Listen to the tiny alarm bells my gut tries to ring before I shush it for being dramatic.

Let people reveal themselves at their natural pace, without fast-tracking them into the most vulnerable parts of my life. I don’t need suspicion; I just need awareness. I don’t need walls; just well-placed doors with locks I actually use.

Trust can still happen — it just doesn’t need to happen at lightning speed. I need to move at a rhythm that protects my peace (and most certainly the peace of my home and family), not one that sacrifices it. That way, the right people get in, the wrong people stay out, and the red flags finally lose their VIP passes to my heart, and to my life.