Joy Ruined My Reputation

Joy is one of the highest frequencies on the emotional scale. Sitting at And like all high frequencies—it moves things. It shakes loose what no longer fits. It reveals contrast. It doesn’t always feel like a gentle breeze. Sometimes it feels like a wave crashing through your life.

And that wave? It will knock people out of your life.

Not because you stopped loving them. Not because you meant harm. But because joy recalibrates your entire system. And if they can’t meet you there; can’t resonate at the same level. Then you’re no longer on the same wavelength. The communication will lose connection.

You’ll feel it in your body first. The energy shift. The friction. The emotional mismatch that you can’t quite name in the pit of your stomach but definitely can’t ignore.

And here's the part no one really tells you: standing in your joy will often leave someone else out.

That’s the cost.

And it’s the one most of us aren’t prepared for.

We grow up in a culture of martyrdom. We care so much for another person, we listen to their desires and not our own. We care so much about what people will say to our joy. We make ourselves small to keep the peace. We give up the things that bring us alive so we don’t risk being “too much.”

Then one day, out of the blue, someone chooses their joy. Without thinking about you, or any kind of warning.

They walk away.

They don't explain.

They don’t slow down.

And it wrecks you.

Because you would never have done that.

Because your joy always came second to theirs.

Being cheated on? That’s what it feels like. Someone chasing joy at your expense. Someone prioritizing their aliveness while you’re left standing in pieces, trying to understand how they could.

But here’s the uncomfortable truth:

At some point, roles will reverse. You’ll have to learn how to live with that side of you, too.

You’ll have to understand that joy, real, gut-level, soul-driven joy, doesn’t always factor in everyone’s feelings. It just moves. It obeys a different law. One that includes freedom and acceptance. As a matter fact you cant reach joy without acceptance. Joy makes space for soul work. One that sometimes feels brutal.

And if you’re going to honor your own joy, you’re going to have to accept that someone might get left out of your wave.

They might not understand.

They may get angry.

They might resent you for ever.

They might talk about you.

They might say you’ve changed.

And you have.

You’re no longer available for the version of life that required your suppression. Your energy is no longer in service to survival. You’re not looking for approval. You’re not trying to win the argument. You're not resisting at all actually.

You’re chasing alignment.

You’re choosing wholeness.

You're listening and receiving advice from within.

And while I was fighting for my joy, I wasn’t just saying “screw everybody, I’m going to do what I want.” I still held myself accountable. I broke leases, but I paid what needed to be paid. I covered what I could for others. I exited respectfully, because my decisions were mine to make, but I still honored the ripple effect. It still made people not like me. I understood their disappointment and annoyance to my choices. Joy doesn't have to mean disregard. It can mean fierce, honest boundaries with compassion for yourself.

I knew after my trauma, I needed to be around people who felt like family. Messy, joyful, child like environments that allowed for play. That's the soul of who I am. That's what I come from in Texas. Its the life I built after surviving my childhood. A life full of love, play, and acceptance. To the people who did not know me, they assumed it was a calculated attempt to stay close to those who hurt me. I was willing to let them believe what they wanted. I was willing to break any and all connections to feeling safe and joyful post trauma. Willingness is just below acceptance. Can you see the pattern, yet?

But chasing your joy? It casts a huge shadow. Its not all sunshine and rainbows, friend. It will challenge your reputation. It will cause some people's fear to take charge. It's wave passes through everyone in your life, and shakes out their hidden beliefs.

It will upset people who don’t understand it. Who want the version of you that made them comfortable or dare I say more confident in themselves. In my case, it did more than just ruffle feathers. During the years following my trauma, women had gotten together and made a literal list of my so-called mistakes. A third of it was in some ways accurate, and the rest was twisted, filtered through projection, judgment and resentment, and turned into entertainment. It was passed around, laughed about, gossiped over. And it stung.

Here's the thing after my trauma, I was making mistakes. I was still trusting in people I shouldn't have. I was still repressing my anger. I was still living in a trauma state inside my body and in denial of what I had just survived. But I was on the journey learning to make choices based on what my body said yes to, what sparked true joy in me, even when it looked chaotic from the outside. I was healing in real-time, and the cost of that was the image others held of me.

And I’m so glad it ruined my reputation.

Because now I get to show up as me. Authentically. Softly. Fully. I can speak about what happened to me with love, and not hate. I can tell my story in a way that frees others to feel less alone. That’s what the journey gave me. Joy to spark more joy.

If someone is willing to level up and meet you in joy; not just to give you what you want, not just to uphold a proper reputation, but to bring their full joy into the space. Then that’s resonance. That’s power.

But if they can’t?

Then, I learned to let them go.

Let them walk their path of joy, even if it costs you the connection.

That's the most loving thing you can do for another human, living life for the very first time.

And trust that your own joy will attract the people who belong.

Because here’s what I know for sure:

Joy is worth the disruption.

It’s worth the grief.

It’s worth the loss.

It worth the bullying.

Because what you gain in return is a life that is alive. A life that reflects you at your core. A life that doesn’t just look good from the outside, but feels good from the inside out.

And that is a life no one can fake.

Reflection Questions:

1. Have you ever chosen someone else’s comfort over your own joy?

2. What’s one decision you made that cost you your peace?

3. Can you recall a time when someone else's joy came at your expense?

4. What would it mean to honor your joy; even if it meant letting go of what (or who) no longer fits?

5. Are you willing to trust that joy will realign your life for the better?

Joy might cost you.

But so does denying it.

You get to choose: The pain that leads to freedom or the numbness that keeps you stuck.

Let joy do its work.

Let it clear the way.

Let it call you back to yourself.

Because that’s what it’s here to do.