The Difficult Decision of Taking the High Road
Taking the high road is often romanticized.
People talk about it like it’s the noble, enlightened choice, the obvious path of maturity and moral high ground. But what they don’t tell you is how isolating it can feel. How gut-wrenching it is to hold your peace when your character is being misunderstood. How painful it is to move in love when you know someone is acting from ego.
For me, taking the high road wasn’t about suppressing anger. It wasn’t about pretending something didn’t hurt or brushing it under the rug. It was about pausing long enough to ask myself why it hurt and what that said about the wounds I still carry.
The lies, the rumors, the quiet shade dressed up as concern, it all landed. Not because it was true, but because it poked at something tender in me. My longing to be seen rightly. My fear of being misjudged. My desire to be understood without having to constantly explain myself. When you’re someone who leads with love and integrity, being mischaracterized stings in a different way. It makes you want to defend yourself, to prove them wrong.
But here’s the thing: proving them wrong isn’t the work. Healing is. Remaining rooted is. Moving in alignment is. And sometimes, that means releasing the desire to be vindicated publicly and instead choosing to live in a way that’s undeniably true to who you are.
The truth is, most ego isn’t arrogance, it’s armor. A lot of what looks like pride is really pain. What reads as confidence is often the performance of control. Sometimes people mask ego and pain to hide their insecurities—running not just from who they are, but from their own biases, unhealed trauma, and misguided ideologies. And when we don’t tend to our wounds, we bleed on others. We create environments where the norm becomes harm instead of healing, power instead of partnership, hurt instead of love. It’s easier to deflect than to do the deeper work. But just because someone isn’t ready to look in the mirror doesn’t mean you have to shrink to avoid becoming one.
Hurt people hurt people. But healed people? Healed people heal people. That beautiful reminder comes from Mimi of Mimi’s Yoga Kids—and it’s stayed with me. I’ve decided to be one of the latter.
I realized the hard part wasn’t the narratives others were spinning. It was my relationship to those narratives. I had to ask: What story do I believe about myself? Whose voice gets to be louder, mine or theirs? And more importantly, am I living in a way that honors the love I say I believe in?
So no, the high road isn’t always peaceful. It’s often steep and quiet and full of questions that echo longer than you expect. But it’s also freeing. Because taking the high road is about choosing yourself. Choosing to heal. Choosing to stay in integrity with your values, even when others don’t. It's not about holding others accountable—it’s about being accountable to your own growth, your own peace, and your own truth.
To those walking that road, just know: you’re not weak for feeling it all. You’re not less righteous because you’re wrestling with the weight of restraint. You are doing sacred work. And your peace is worth protecting, even if it costs some comfort.
Move in love, even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.
That’s when it matters most.
Peace and love to you all, and to your journeys with healing and finding the light.