When Goodbyes Clean the Air 🌫️
"Some people leave your life to make room for the life you're meant to live." — Unknown
Years ago, I clung to a friendship that had long expired.
Not out of love.
Not even out of respect.
But out of fear.
Fear of being misunderstood.
Fear of guilt.
Fear of being the one who walked away.
"Not everyone you lose is a loss; some are simply removals of blockages."
We had history, sure.
But sometimes history is a prison disguised as nostalgia.
I kept showing up to conversations that made me small.
Kept offering explanations that weren’t heard.
Kept trading truth for temporary peace.
When they finally left, it felt like a collapse.
But a week later, I breathed differently.
Slept deeper.
Smiled with both sides of my mouth.
What left wasn’t love.
It was permission, to stop shrinking.
Not all endings are tragedies.
Some are therapies you never scheduled.
These small notes arrive quietly,
like morning light through a cracked window.
No noise. Just truth.
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Ask yourself today:
“What relationships feel heavy only because I’ve been carrying them alone?”
Then write one sentence that begins with:
“I give myself permission to stop…”
Don’t explain.
Don’t justify.
Just honor the sentence.
Let one truth live on the page without apology.
Growth doesn’t always roar.
Sometimes it’s a quiet door shutting behind someone who never truly saw you.
And your healing…
It begins when you stop chasing what was always trying to leave.
Be bold enough to call freedom by its name.
Even when it arrives wrapped in grief.
You're not being cruel.
You're being honest.
And sometimes, that’s the most loving thing you can do for both of you.
Have you ever looked back and realized you weren’t abandoned, you were freed?
If you’ve walked through that kind of release, messy or clean, share your story.
Who or what did you let go of that turned out to be liberation, not loss?
You never know who needs your reflection to see their own truth.
If you’re here, you’re part of something real, something that holds space for healing without the need to perform. I don’t take that lightly.
If this space feels like home.
If it holds your ache, your becoming, your breath.
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However you choose to support, whether by sharing, buying a coffee, or simply showing up… thank you. Truly.
If you think these gentle words cut deep, wait until you read Shadow Thoughts. That’s where I let the truth bleed without cleaning it up for anyone.
