“Let it go, let it go, can’t hold it back anymore...” There was a heaviness in my chest. My breathing slowed and steadied; shallow and slight. The absence of sound was the most startling. An emptiness flowed in like a dense fog. It was all encompassing and defined. I’d just hung up the telephone and let go of a piece of myself, my life and my history in one fell swoop. This moment came in without notice and literally took my breath away. In the moments that followed, a calm and lightness washed over me. It was grace. And grace assured me that I was okay in that moment, I’d be okay in the moments to come and that all would be well. Weeks into this new year I have been faced with letting something go. Forgive me for my vague references in this piece. The individuals that it concerns are deserved of their privacies. The detailed stories are theirs to tell; faults and shortcomings their own burdens to bare. Sharing the details would only add to the indecencies that life has gifted them. It is neither my intent nor the purpose of this piece. I can, however, go into great detail on the subsequent affect this history has had on my psyche. My perspective is my story to tell. “Let it go, let it go, turn away and slam the door...”
In my previous writings I have shared in great prose the whimsicality of my childhood. Growing up in a magical place like New Orleans, I was provided with a backdrop that dreams are made of. Artistic and free spirited, I was loved and supported; my interests and talents fostered to a great extent. There was nothing I needed that wasn’t provided. My parents, however, were admittedly hands off. As loving as they were, their attention and efforts were needed elsewhere. To put it plainly, I wasn’t a child that needed a lot of handling. The woman I am now, confident, mature, and self sufficient, bares a striking resemblance to the child I was then. Their love was demonstrated in provision and autonomy. It in turn gave way to a perceived imbalance in affections. Where offerings of praise were warranted, notions of expectancy were presented. Accolades and accomplishments alike garnered a, “we expected this” as opposed to standard congratulatory or prideful sentiments. Early on, it had been decided that I simply didn’t “need” them to achieve. The truth of the matter is that I did in fact need it. Arguably, every child does. I also wanted it. I still do. Their attentions were needed elsewhere. The circumstances of the time required their full determinations. There were loved ones with struggles that took command of their gazes. Everyone else’s circumstances would become my own, as I was left to carry on in the background. And carried on I did. In the midst of chaos I carried on; a expectation of success on my part. There was little to no regard for any true emotional impact. In the arts I would find comfort. My commitment to ballet served as much needed escapism during that time. My well being came second to the troubles of the day. To them I simply didn’t need to come first.
“Let it go, let it go, no you’ll never see me cry…”
It was at a tender age that I first learned the price of letting go. We are all born having expectations. We hold on so tightly to them in every aspect of our lives. Throughout my own existence I have had to learn to let go of possessions, ideas and people at great personal cost. Whether it be emotional or monetary, the sting remains all too familiar. In college I let go of my desire to become a dancer. I would willfully abandon a dream in efforts of education and practicality. Later I’d let go of an idea of what success meant. After years of owning and operating my own business, becoming a stay at home mom would challenge me into redefining what success meant in my life. Life has presented opportunities to say goodbye to souls who did not align with my destiny. Albeit family or friend, letting go of those relationships are never easy. If you’ve been following my writings, recently I’ve let go of my childhood home; the emotional toll I am still settling with. Motherhood, as I am quickly learning, provides an endless curriculum on the topic. “Let it go, let it go, and I’ll rise like the break of dawn...”
Through recent circumstances I have had to swallow some heavy truths. The ingestion of these truths have given way to another episode of letting go. In this instance there was a realization that while I cannot author other’s actions, I have full authority of my reactions and behaviors going forward. In observation of my emotional health and wellness, I’ve made choices to remove myself from certain situations; options once not afforded to me as a child. Although others court chaos under the guise of goodwill, I can now choose to no longer be a witness to it. An unwilling second hand participant fully absorbing the ultra violet rays of negativity. I’ve had to let go of the need to be seen as the priority. The need for my peace to be chosen over the propensity to enable.This is something that never has been and will never be. The sourness of that pill provides the sharpest bite known to man. “Here I stand, and here I stay...”
Letting go is painful and at times jarring. But there is a heavier cost associated with staying put. Complacency and the unwillingness to readjust could cost you a lifetime of peace and weight of unfulfilled expectations. My personal litmus test is comprised of one general question; does the subject in question add or take away from your life? The answer is surely to follow. Should you ever find yourself lost in the bewilderment of letting go, I’d like to encourage you to remember when we are called to shed the unnecessary, we ultimately are making room for growth to occur. When we cleanse ourselves of negativity, we allow for transformation; a metamorphosis into a higher version of ourselves. Acceptance of dysfunction from people, places, things and ideas have always proven most costly with no personal benefit. As daunting and painful the task, peace and freedom from strife will always prove priceless. “Let the storm rage on, the cold never bothered me anyway.” All will be well.