Not every thing or every one, including ourselves, needs to stick around forever.
As a kid, my family moved around a lot. Five elementary schools in five years. By the fifth one, I had evolved into quite an eccentric child. I was great at being alone and amusing myself with crafts, music or education. (My teachers loved me.) But I found it so difficult to connect authentically with classmates because I always leaving. Something about this phenomenon lodged itself deep into my psyche as I grew up. I developed a strong desire to hold on to things. A desire to stay.
As life went on, and important friendships waned or vanished into thin air, I would struggle internally. For years, I would send emails to estranged friends that wouldn’t get returned just hoping… the line was still open. Please. Stay. I need you to be there. I can’t have everyone leave all over again.
The Lost Summer
This summer, I went on a medical mystery tour. (I’ll get more into that in a later piece.) As I spent months and months looking for answers, I realized not only did have this propensity to hold on… I would hold on even when I didn’t want to. I would disagree with a diagnosis, but go ahead with what was suggested because I was sure I couldn’t be right and I also didn’t want to let go. I would let certain people in my social or business life say hurtful things and not speak up, because I knew speaking up would “cause trouble.” I didn’t want trouble. I was tired and I just wanted stasis.
However, my life imploded and stasis was no longer an option. In that chaos and despair, I found a new inner resolve. I began to more clearly hear my inner voice after years of it being shrouded… and this voice was clear. “I don’t really like that person. They’re not kind.” “I don’t agree with that medical suggestion.” “Why did you say yes to that? Please cancel it.” As the voice got louder and louder, I gained the courage to listen to it. I began to act without fear of people leaving. No big announcements, no drama… just quiet shifts.
It was not easy at first and neither was knowing my why, but what happened next was extraordinary. I became happier than I have been in ages because my actions were aligned with my inner desires. Additionally, for all the exits endured, a flood of new wonderful friends, practitioners and solutions came my way. It was almost as if the answers were there all along, I just spent so many years trying to force solutions instead of letting my intuition do its thing.
The Rub
And with this newfound awareness, comes the rub. The rub that sometimes we are only helpful for others for a time. I’m convinced only teachers know this fact truly well. No matter how brilliantly they educate and love on a child, at the end of that year… that kid will move on. Perhaps you’ll hear from them here and there, but your time is done.
It isn’t always so easy in real life, is it? With friendships? Or family? Or colleagues? Or employees? Or sponsees? Or mentees?
Sometimes these exits happen quietly with grace. Other times, they can be painful and stir up feelings of resentment or anger. I haven’t always been great at letting go — be it because I felt I was wronged or because I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. (Not surprising, right?) I have regrets about the level of hurt I have felt when certain people left unceremoniously. I’m not saying we shouldn’t hurt when people leave, but I am saying we shouldn’t spend the rest of our lives nursing old wounds. At some point, you have to admit the scab has fallen off and accept it.
My therapist recently blew my mind and offered me another perspective on painful exits by relaying this quotation:
You are supposed to be rejected from a life in which you never belonged.
As I sat with that quote, I had to admit it was true. There was not one exit where I felt like the person on the other side still occupied the same wavelength as myself. Their exit was an inevitable part of my evolution, not an invitation to feel bad about myself. I was growing in a different direction as much as they were.
And On That Note…
If we can accept that exits serve our highest good and extend grace for others to evolve, why can’t we extend it to ourselves? Can we be quiet and give our inner child the ability to be honest about who and what no longer serves them? Whose phone calls do we need to stop answering? Which friendships or colleagues do we need to evolve from? What places, jobs or institutions do we need to graciously exit?
Why is it so difficult to allow ourselves what we truly want? Perhaps it’s the grief of saying goodbye or the fear of change or the fear of knowing we can truly have what we want. Whatever the reason, I have found this path to be far less painful than the road of self denial.
There is a great solace in admitting that some things are only helpful for a time and to allow those chapters to end.
