For more than a year, I held an infatuation for a man that did not share equal feelings for me. A piece of me understood this truth, but another piece of me, one more raw, believed that maybe one day he would change his mind. Often, I would let him get close while he kept me at a safe distance away. Anytime he let me an inch closer, I believed he was finally starting to embrace me.
Every interaction with him made me feel worse about myself. It was like eating that second piece of pizza, I knew it would not make me feel good and yet the temptation to do so overpowered my greatest sense.
One day, I wrote him a scathing message that I didn’t intend to send. I said what I wanted to say, believing he would never hear it. It was my release. Except, with a slight slip of the finger, I did send it. At first, I tried to undo my mistake, thinking scraps of him were better than no him, but then I felt a sudden rush of relief. I didn’t have to live this way.
With the bandaid half off, I ripped the rest. I told him to not contact me anymore, that I deserved better. He said he understood. Hours later, he tried to reach out again, and I told him that I was serious. It was the end.
It was a bit scary to let go of this person with whom I had held such potential, but he told me early on who he was and I did not listen. I did know if I would ever find love, but I knew I had to stop searing down his pathway.
A month and after later, I met Ethan, my soon-to-be husband. Ethan loves me in all the ways that that individual couldn’t. He supports me, nourishes me, stands beside me. I do not doubt his commitment and dedication to me, giving me the greatest gift of all – reassurance.
I have been thinking about this story quite a bit lately and the magic that comes with letting go of the things that no longer serve you. That phrase – “letting go of the things that no longer serve you” – seems like something you would see in an over-edited, over-posed Instagram photo, but there is a deep truth to it. Had I never let go of the man that kept me hanging by a thread, I would have never taken the steps to find the man who wraps his arms around me. This is relevant not just because Ethan and I are getting married in 13 days, but because I am in a shedding season.
I am letting go of friendships that reached their end a while ago, despite my unwillingness to accept that.
I am letting go of what I thought I was supposed to be.
I am letting go of my single life.
I am letting go of jam-packed weekends.
I am letting go of the impact I thought would I have on the world.
I am letting go of the pressure I put on myself.
I am letting go of the things my body can no longer do.
I am letting go of my need to keep the voice that says I am not good enough around.
But I am not just letting go, I am making room. Big, big things are happening in my world (can’t say them here yet, but I promise I will) and I am cleaning house to let new and beautiful blessings come my way. I can’t go into this next phase as who I was, so I am going to be someone I’ve never been.
Letting go is scary, and sometimes it takes us a long, long time to get there, but when we do, miracles happen.