The Ones Who Only Show Up in Certain Seasons

I was scrolling when I saw it —

that quiet ache hiding under a few words,

a digital sigh dressed as a meme.

It made me think.

Not about the post itself,

but about the way certain people move in our lives.

Some show up only when the sky over you is heavy,

when your light feels dim,

when your voice trembles.

They slip in under the guise of care,

offering comfort,

but holding an unspoken contract in their hands:

I will stand beside you when you are weak,

so long as you stay that way.

They don’t want you at your fullest.

They want you dependent,

small enough to need them,

project-sized.

Queens, kings, sovereign souls —

they don’t interest them.

Your joy, your glow, your wholeness

doesn’t serve their story.

But here’s the twist:

it works the other way too.

Some only show up when you’re winning,

when your table is overflowing,

when your name is buzzing.

Not because they love your light,

but because they want to bask in it.

They clap for the victory

but vanish during the battle.

Both patterns are a kind of manipulation —

feeding only on the version of you that benefits them.

And yet…

not every absence is malice.

Some people guard their peace like treasure,

choosing not to wade into storms that aren’t theirs to calm.

Some stay away from low tides

because they’ve almost drowned before.

That’s not cruelty,

that’s boundaries.

The trick is learning the difference.

Who disappears because they don’t care,

and who disappears because they care for themselves?

Who shows up because they see you,

and who shows up because they see an opportunity?

There’s so much to watch for.

So much to unlearn.

And sometimes the hardest truth to swallow is this:

the same person can be your comforter and your consumer,

your cheerleader and your shadow.