DARKER THE BERRY

A while back, a woman told a man he needed to come down off his high horse. Said he thought too highly of himself. Needing to cum down a notch. Let's unpack what she was really asking.

Because there was something about the way he walked into a room. The certainty in his voice. The way he carried himself without begging to be chosen. The way, when he loved somebody, he loved them completely-but never at the expense of himself. She couldn't quite reach where he was standing, so instead of climbing, she decided he must be arrogant.

What she didn't understand was that his confidence wasn't built yesterday. It came from years of being loved, corrected, encouraged, prayed over, and reminded of who he was whenever life tried to make him forget. Some of those voices are still here. Some have crossed over. But he carries every word with him. That old-school kind of encouragement that puts steel in your spine. So no, he wasn't coming downstairs just because she felt more comfortable on the lower floor.

There is something deeply foolish about trying to diminish someone simply because their confidence exposes the places where you still feel insecure. Love is not supposed to reduce a person into something easier to control. You don't break somebody's spirit and call it compromise. You don't chip away at their confidence and call it humility. And you certainly don't drag somebody down to a level where manipulation becomes easier and then call that a relationship.

If someone thinks you're sitting too high, maybe the answer isn't to climb down. Maybe they need to learn how to walk up the stairs. There's plenty of room up here. Enough room for two people to stand tall, love deeply, respect one another, and never require either person to become smaller just so the other can feel bigger.