Letting Go. in Phoenix

Been working really hard lately to purge a lot of noise from my life. People that aren’t good for me, my own rotten thoughts, clothes I don’t wear, and as much of #2’s shit as possible.

I’ve never been very good at letting go. I wrote about this before, that I’m a grudge holder. But I realized recently that all of the rotten things that have happened to me, all of the people who have hurt me, used me, taken advantage of me… well, they’ve already hurt me as much as they’re going to. I don’t have to let them continue to hurt me. The damage is done. I can stop reliving it like crashing a car over and over again every goddamn day. There’s no healing that way.

I have never known a moment of true peace in my life. Until now. Now, rather suddenly, I feel at peace most of the time. It’s okay to let go, it’s healthy to let go. Everything in life isn’t a riddle or a mystery to be solved. There isn’t an answer for everything and there’s not really any such thing as closure. Some things just are. But it’s the things that are that matter the most, not the things that were. Today matters so much more than yesterday.

Yesterday, I was hurt, bruised, broken. Yesterday, there were people in my life who didn’t appreciate me, respect me, or truly care for me and my well-being. Today… well, today… I appreciate me, I respect me, and I truly care for myself and my well-being. And today there are people in my life who love me, who truly care for me. They care for me as I am and not as they wish I would be. There is no, “I love you, but…” or “If you could just be a little more…” or “If you could just be a little less…” There is only, “I love you.” Emphatic. Unequivocal. Absolute.

And I don’t have to accept anything less. I don’t deserve anything less.

I have been haunting myself. Or allowing myself to be haunted. Constantly thinking of all of the terrible things, endlessly picking through memories as if some answer could possibly lie there. There are no answers, there is no reason for some things. Those things just happened, they were things I lived through, trials I conquered. I should feel no shame in surviving. I mean, I fucking survived. I’m smarter and stronger and more mentally stable than I’ve ever been. Where is the shame in that? To what purpose do I allow myself to continue being haunted by… well… victories. At the end of the day, every terrible thing that’s happened to me turned out to be a victory because I survived it. I weathered every storm. I never gave up and I never quit trying and goddammit, I won.

And I’m going to keep winning. I’ve had a taste of it now and it’s delicious. I am so excited about where life is going to take me next, and I’m so grateful to have you to share it with.