Lately, I’ve been reflecting on how many times I’ve had to walk away from people I thought I couldn’t live without. And honestly? It still stings when I think about it.
I’ve had to walk away from family members—people I thought would always be my safe place—because their presence was draining me more than it was lifting me up. It’s such a strange kind of heartbreak to realize that the people who are supposed to love you unconditionally are the ones who make you feel the smallest. I tried for so long to keep those relationships alive, but it got to the point where I felt like I was constantly bleeding myself dry just to keep the peace. And that’s not love. That’s survival.
And then there are the relationships. The ones that made me feel like I was trapped inside of my own life. I remember the heaviness of feeling like no matter how much love I gave, it was never enough. I stayed longer than I should have, convincing myself things would change, convincing myself I could handle it. But the truth is—I was suffocating. I had lost pieces of myself in the process of trying to hold onto someone else.
Walking away wasn’t easy. In fact, it was terrifying. I had nights where I cried myself to sleep, mornings where I questioned if I had made the right choice. I battled the fear of being alone, the guilt of leaving, the voices in my head telling me I was being selfish. But somewhere deep inside, I knew: staying was destroying me.
The day I finally chose to walk away, I felt broken… but free. Like I had ripped off the chains that had been holding me down for so long. And even though the healing has been messy, I’ve started to find pieces of myself again. I’ve started to breathe deeper. Smile more. Dream bigger.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: walking away doesn’t mean you don’t love them. It means you finally decided to love yourself enough to stop living in pain.
And right now, I’m proud of myself for that.
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