When I chose to let you go, there was no great moment of triumph.
There wasn’t an earth-shattering epiphany that changed my life, where music played and the universe conspired to bring everything together for good.
There was no conflict, no turmoil and no struggle. No internal argument. No weighing of pros and cons. No decision to be analyzed to death—even by me, who cannot make a decision without weeks of obsessive thought over every possible outcome.
There were only two words, when I chose to let you go:
No more will I measure my worth against your opinion. No more will I be pressed into the shapes you carved for me. No more will I tell my heart to quiet down, ashamed of its clatter. No more will there be blood on my feet from the eggshells I walked on as I tried not to give cause for your disapproval.