Choosing Yourself Over the Comfort of Holding On

There was a time when I was in a relationship that had both beautiful moments and a constant, quiet unease.

Something about my ex drew me in—his ability to make me laugh, the way he could connect with others, and the genuine care he showed when I needed it. But alongside that, there were things that didn’t sit right with me, things I couldn’t quite ignore.

I remember the moment he said, “I can picture us getting married one day.” It caught me off guard, not because I didn’t care about him, but because I wasn’t sure we could ever be forever. His words hung in the air for a bit, and I laughed it off, trying to deflect it. But inside, I knew. I couldn’t see it.

The things I loved about him were undeniable—the lightness in his laugh, his charm, how he could fill a room with energy. But there were also parts of him that made me question if we were truly aligned.

When we’d talk about the future, there was a lack of real conversation. It was like he’d share a dream or plan for us, but it was always vague, like he was speaking more to his idea of the future than to our future together.

And the small things—the way he never really seemed to listen when I talked about what was important to me, the way he’d get distracted when I opened up. I didn’t always say anything in the moment, but there was this feeling that I was giving more than I was receiving.

We’d get caught up in beautiful gestures—trips, dinners, shared experiences. But I started to wonder if that was enough.

Was the love we shared the kind that could withstand the quiet spaces, the unspoken doubts, the missing pieces?

When it ended, there was sadness, but not in the way I expected. I didn’t feel broken. I felt… clear. As I cried that night, I could almost hear my inner voice saying, “This was always meant to happen.”

The next morning, it was like the fog lifted. I knew I had to let go.

Not because I didn’t love him—but because, deep down, I knew there was a version of love out there that would be more aligned with who I was and who I wanted to become.

Scrolling through old photos of us, I saw the good moments we shared. But more than that, I saw the love I thought was enough, but realized wasn’t. And in the clarity of letting go, I made space for something better.

I’m sharing this because I know that so many of us have been there, holding on to something that no longer serves us, thinking that love is enough to fill the gaps.

But the real beauty comes when we choose to step away, knowing that the right love will align with who we are—without the doubts, the compromises, or the unanswered questions.

Wishing you the courage to let go of what no longer fits and the peace of knowing something better is waiting.