Disposable

Dr. Nick’s Reflections: Disposable

There’s a kind of pain that doesn’t show up with warning lights or broken bones. It’s quieter. Sharper. The kind that creeps in when the people you care about—people you once trusted with your softest parts—start treating you like you don’t matter. Like you’re disposable. Replaceable. Forgotten.

I’ve been sitting with that pain lately.

There are people I thought were my friends. People I supported, defended, celebrated. People I laughed with, shared vulnerable moments with, and stood by even when it wasn’t easy. And now? Some of them can’t even look me in the eye. They’ve turned cold, passive-aggressive, sometimes outright cruel. Comments laced with venom but disguised as jokes. Whispers turned into silence. Smiles turned into side-eyes. And the worst part? I don’t even know what I did.

Maybe that’s what hurts most. The not knowing. The realization that someone can decide they’re done with you, cut you off, or twist the narrative—without ever giving you a chance to explain, to fix, to understand. They just… change. And suddenly you’re the villain in a story you didn’t even know was being written.

And family? Sometimes that’s the deepest cut. Because we grow up believing that family is unconditional. That no matter what, they’re the ones who see you—the real you—and still love you anyway. But the truth is, some families are quick to judge, quick to turn their backs, quick to believe the worst in you rather than ask the truth from you. They throw around labels like “difficult” or “too much” or “selfish” without ever realizing the battles you’re fighting behind closed doors. The way you’re barely holding yourself together.

And suddenly, you’re left wondering—Is there something wrong with me? Am I really that horrible?

But let me tell you something I’m learning, even through the ache: the way people treat you is often more about them than it is about you. Their bitterness, their resentment, their distance—it’s not always a reflection of your flaws. Sometimes, it’s a reflection of their discomfort with your honesty. Your boundaries. Your growth. Your light.

You are not disposable. You are not an afterthought. You are not too much.

You are someone who loves deeply, who cares loudly, who shows up when it matters. And unfortunately, those traits intimidate people who are more comfortable pretending than being real. They’ll try to make you feel small, so they don’t have to face how small they’ve been acting.

So if you’re feeling discarded—by friends who turned into strangers or by family who only sees your flaws—please know this: it doesn’t define your worth. Their rejection does not erase your value.

Let them go if you need to. Let the silence stay silent. Protect your peace. And don’t dim your light just because it made someone else squint.

You are still worthy of love. Of kindness. Of connection.

Even if they forgot that… you must not

And I won’t either.