I’ve written and rewritten today’s entry many times over. Maybe because I wasn’t ready to admit that I need to let go of a part of my life. I’ve tried for years to convince myself that I just need to keep trying, that I just need to find a way to make it work. However, it doesn’t matter how hard I try, it simply isn’t going to.
That part of my life, the one that made me happier and more content than I’ve ever been, the part that finally allowed me to see into my own understanding and discover who I am, that part of my life is over. It was the most amazing and liberating time of my life. It allowed me to be creative and taught me to be confident. I made some of the best friends I will ever have, but life moved on, and I didn’t.
I’ve been making myself miserable trying to get back to the way things used to be. I like who I was then and how my life was. I didn’t want to accept that things had changed. I was in denial, and it was that denial that was eating away at me, threatening (and very nearly succeeding) destruction of the brilliant, vivacious, confident person I was so proud of.
Letting go is not the same as giving up. Sometimes we hold on too long because we don’t want to be quitters. We’ve been told to persevere. And that we can do anything if we put our minds to it and work at it. For this reason, we hold on, and we make ourselves miserable.
But not me, not anymore. Now I am letting go. I’m not giving up. I’m moving on. I’m looking forward and refusing to be miserable any longer. I’m opening up to the possibilities that are before me.
I don’t claim to have expert knowledge. I don’t. I mostly write as a way for me to process my understanding of the world. I use it as way to sort through my joys, my frustrations, my fears. I use it as a therapy session for myself. You just happen to be along for the ride. You get to peek through a small window as I lay bare my soul.