January Reflections: Innocence, Boundaries, and Letting Go

January has a way of stripping things down. The noise of the holidays fades, the calendar turns, and what’s left is truth—sometimes uncomfortable truth—about people, relationships, and expectations. When I was a kid, we couldn't wait to break off the long, icicles hanging from trees to have sword fights. Since I was the youngest, I had to learn quickly when to quit the fight, and go inside.

This month, I’ve been reflecting on failed friendships, fractured families, and the quiet grief that comes when people you trusted choose differently than you hoped. Some relationships don’t end with a blowup. They just… stop. Others reveal themselves as one-sided, conditional, or rooted more in convenience than care.

I was once told by a woman pastor—someone I briefly considered a friend—that “nobody is innocent.”

That statement stuck with me, and not in a good way—because it isn’t true.

Nobody is perfect. Nobody is pure.

But innocence is not the absence of flaws—it is the absence of guilt.

If you didn’t rob the bank but are accused, you are innocent.

If you weren’t the abuser in a relationship, you are innocent of abuse.

If you are defending yourself against false accusations, you are innocent of what you did not do.

Confusing imperfection with guilt harms people. Especially victims.

More and more parents today are experiencing something deeply painful: bullying from their own adult children. Often, the shift begins when a son or daughter cleaves tightly to a partner or spouse who brings division, manipulation, or false narratives into the family. The parent becomes the villain simply for holding boundaries, asking questions, or refusing to accept disrespect from a new member of the family.

Bullying isn't a childhood dilemma.

It doesn’t stop because someone turns eighteen in fact, that might be when it begins.

And it doesn’t become acceptable just because it happens within families, or in churches, or in your circle of "believers".

My writing—always—will stand with the innocent. With the falsely accused. With the ones who chose truth, boundaries, and self-respect, even when it cost them relationships they never wanted to lose.

New beginnings aren't about pretending everything is fine.

It’s about clarity.

And sometimes, clarity reveals—before it heals.