Relationships and Social Skills

Some people are just hard to love. Not because you’re impatient or unkind, but because they test every boundary you have. They’re abrasive, selfish, manipulative, exhausting. They take without giving. They twist words. They don’t apologize. They make you feel like you’re the one who’s crazy when deep down, you know you’re not. And then you sit in church and hear about loving your enemies. Turning the other cheek. Walking the extra mile. You read the verses. You know what Jesus said. You want to obey. But the moment you’re around that person again—the one who pushes every button you didn’t even know you had—it all flies out the window. Because it’s one thing to love people who are difficult. But the truly unlovable? The ones who feel toxic, unsafe, relentless in their dysfunction? That feels impossible. And maybe you’ve wondered if God really expects you to do this. Or if love in those situations means letting yourself get walked on, manipulated, taken advantage of again and again until you’re a shell of who you were. That’s where the confusion comes in. Because most of us were never taught how to love someone without losing ourselves in the process. Start By Redefining What Love Really Is Love isn’t being nice all the time. It’s not putting on a smile and pretending everything’s fine when it’s not. It’s not letting someone mistreat you and calling it “grace.” And it’s definitely not codependency wrapped in Christian language. Real love—the kind that comes from God—is way stronger than that. It tells the truth. It draws lines. It endures, yes—but it also protects. It seeks the good of the other person, even when that means saying hard things or stepping away when necessary. Loving someone doesn’t mean giving them unlimited access to you. It means seeing them through God’s eyes, not your own pain, and choosing to respond from the Spirit, not your emotions. That’s where it gets hard. Because your emotions will tell you to run. To get even. To shut them out and never look back. But love—real, Spirit-led love—tells you to do something deeper. Not easier. Deeper. And that’s where the work begins. See the Person, Not Just the Problem When someone hurts you, it’s easy to reduce them to the worst version of themselves. You stop seeing the image of God in them and only see what they did, what they keep doing, or how they make you feel. You turn them into a caricature of every offense, every harsh word, every manipulation. But people are rarely just one thing. They’re complicated. They’ve got their own trauma. Their own blind spots. Their own stories that shaped them, warped them, maybe even hardened them beyond what they know how to fix. That doesn’t excuse behavior. But it does invite compassion. And sometimes the only way to soften your heart enough to love someone hard to love is to ask a different question—not “What’s wrong with them?” but “What happened to them?” It doesn’t make them safe. But it helps you stay human. Because once you lose compassion, you start to lose your capacity to love. And the bitterness doesn’t just lock them out—it locks you in. Forgiveness Is the Front Door to Love You can’t love someone well if you’re still stewing in resentment. You can fake it. You can force it. You can put on a Christian mask and say the right words. But underneath, your heart will be closed off. Cold. Protected. Forgiveness doesn’t mean trust. It doesn’t mean reconciliation. It doesn’t mean pretending nothing happened. It just means you’re not going to carry the debt anymore. You’re not going to let what they did keep poisoning your mind. You’re not going to keep writing the script where they finally see what they did and apologize the exact way you needed them to. You let go. Not for their sake. For yours. Because once that grip loosens, love has a chance to do what it’s supposed to do—flow freely, without being chained to what happened yesterday. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt. But it means the hurt isn’t running the show anymore. Don’t Confuse Boundaries with Bitterness This is where a lot of people swing too far. They either love with no limits and get wrecked in the process, or they build walls so high no one can reach them—not even the people who mean well. But there’s a difference between walls and boundaries. Walls are built out of fear. Boundaries are built out of wisdom. And if someone consistently harms you, disrespects you, manipulates you—you’re not less spiritual for creating distance. You’re not being unloving by refusing to engage in chaos. Sometimes the most loving thing you can do is walk away with peace instead of staying and growing bitter. Love doesn’t mean enabling. It means choosing what’s redemptive. Sometimes that means staying in the hard conversation. Other times it means stepping back and letting God do the work without your constant involvement. Jesus loved perfectly, and He still walked away from people. Still called out sin. Still said no. So can you. You Need the Spirit to Pull This Off If you try to love the unlovable in your own strength, you will fail. You’ll lose your patience. You’ll take it personally. You’ll become resentful. You’ll either lash out or shut down. Because this kind of love doesn’t come from willpower. It comes from being connected to the source of love itself—Christ. You cannot give what you haven’t received. So if love has run dry, that’s not a guilt trip. It’s an invitation. To go back to Him. To sit in His presence. To be reminded of how deeply you’ve been forgiven. How undeserving you were when He called you His. How patient He was when you kept falling in the same ways. And then, from that place—not pressure, not performance—you begin to love others from the overflow. Even the hard ones. Especially the hard

Friendship sounds simple when you’re a kid. You sit next to someone at lunch, trade snacks, laugh about nothing, and boom—you’re best friends. No one’s overthinking it. No one’s wondering about emotional labor or boundaries or whether this person is safe for their nervous system. Then you grow up. And suddenly friendship gets harder. Way harder. People are busy. You’re busy. Life pulls in every direction. And you start to realize that building and keeping real friendships is work. Not the exhausting kind of work that leaves you drained—but intentional effort that takes time, attention, and vulnerability. Stuff that’s easy to skip when the days are full and your energy is low. But here’s the truth: you need people. Not followers. Not coworkers. Not people who say “Happy Birthday” once a year and like your posts. Actual friends. The kind you call when you’re not okay. The kind who show up without needing a reason. The kind who know your mess and don’t flinch. And if you don’t have that right now, you’re not broken. But you might be lonely. And lonely isn’t something to normalize—it’s something to pay attention to. Friendship doesn’t just happen. It’s built. And it has to be maintained. So if you’ve ever felt like friendship is more fragile now than it used to be, you’re not imagining it. But it doesn’t have to stay that way. Start With Presence, Not Performance So many people think they have to be impressive to keep friends. Like if they’re not always funny or put together or emotionally strong, the people in their life will slowly back away. That fear makes you show up in pieces. You hide the parts you think are “too much.” You keep it light, make the conversation about them, maybe throw in some self-deprecating humor to make yourself feel safe. But real friendship can’t grow in performance mode. If you want depth, you have to bring your whole self. Not just the “Instagram version.” The tired you. The insecure you. The angry you. The still-healing you. That’s where real friendship begins. Not in impressing each other, but in knowing each other. And look, not everyone can handle the real you. That’s okay. The ones who can? Those are your people. Don’t waste your energy trying to keep the rest. Consistency Builds Trust Friendship can’t survive on occasional catch-ups and “we should hang out sometime” texts that never lead to anything. It’s built through shared moments. Repeated connection. Time that isn’t always deep or dramatic—just there. You don’t need to talk every day. But you do need to show up. Text first sometimes. Check in when it’s not convenient. Say “Hey, I’m thinking about you” even if you’re not sure what they’re going through. It doesn’t take much. A quick voice memo. A random meme that made you think of them. An honest “I miss you. Let’s talk soon.” People don’t need perfect—they just need present. Show up when it matters. Show up when it doesn’t. That’s what makes someone feel safe. Make Space for the Awkward Middle Not every conversation will be meaningful. Not every hangout will feel magical. There will be dry spells. Moments where the rhythm is off, the connection feels distant, or the texts go unanswered. Don’t assume that means the friendship is dead. Most relationships hit that middle space where it’s not new and exciting anymore, but it’s not broken either—it’s just normal. Keep showing up anyway. Say something when something feels off. Ask the weird question: “Are we good?” or “Is everything okay between us?” It’s scary, but silence is worse. Silence lets resentment grow. And most people aren’t mind-readers. They might be struggling too. They might need you to go first. Friendship survives when two people are willing to talk about the tension instead of walking away from it. Let People Change (and Change With Them) You’re not the same person you were five years ago. Your friends aren’t either. And that’s good. Growth is the whole point. But sometimes we lock people into a version of themselves that they’ve already outgrown. We assume they’ll always like what they used to like, believe what they used to believe, show up how they always have. But people evolve. And real friendship makes room for that. It means asking different questions. Paying attention. Being curious about who they’re becoming, not just who they were when you met. Sometimes that growth brings you closer. Sometimes it reveals differences. Either way, it’s part of what keeps friendship alive. Stagnant friendships die fast. Growing ones get richer. Let each other grow. It’s not a threat—it’s the whole reason friendship matters in the first place. Be Honest About What You Need Friendship isn’t one-size-fits-all. Some people need more check-ins. Some need more space. Some need quality time. Others just need to know you haven’t forgotten them. You can’t expect your friend to read your mind. If you’re feeling distant—say so. If you need support—ask for it. If something hurt you—bring it up. It’s not needy to express your needs. It’s mature. And it’s the only way friendships stay healthy over the long haul. Unspoken expectations are a breeding ground for disappointment. You don’t need to demand things. Just be real. Vulnerability isn’t weakness—it’s the glue that keeps people close. Learn When to Let Go Without Bitterness Not all friendships last forever. Some are for a season. Some drift. Some get toxic. Some just… end. That doesn’t make them worthless. But it does mean you need to know when to release people instead of clinging to something that isn’t mutual anymore. Letting go doesn’t mean there’s hate. It just means there’s distance. And sometimes that distance is needed for your growth—or theirs. The key is to let go without bitterness. You can grieve. You can feel sad. But don’t let your heart harden. The end of one friendship doesn’t mean you’re unlovable or unworthy. It just means the road you were on together reached