Over the years, I've come to understand that when a relationship ends, it doesn't erase the beauty of what was shared. The love, laughter, and moments of tenderness remain woven into your life's fabric. It's human to miss people when they're no longer in our lives, to feel the ache of their absence, and to hold onto the memories that brought you joy. These memories don't lose their value simply because the relationship has run its course. I've also learned that holding onto every relationship isn't required for a full or loving life. We're often taught to forgive at all costs, to [repeatedly] smooth over fractures, and to ignore how we've been hurt in the name of peace—in the vain of “blood is thicker than water,” or "but you've known them for so long." We're told to stay, to bend, to compromise ourselves for the sake of others' comfort or potential, even when doing so diminishes our light. Choosing to unlearn this is an act of self-preservation.
Choosing not to repair a relationship isn't an act of cruelty. It's an act of care—care for yourself, your boundaries, your mental and emotional health.
Reconciliation isn't an obligation, especially when the relationship in question depletes rather than nurtures. Forgiveness can be an internal process, a way to release anger or grief without extending the invitation for reentry. Love doesn't mean the erasure of harm. Respect doesn't mean self-abandonment. It's okay to let people go and still honor what they meant to you. Some connections are intended to end, and in their ending, they teach us how to choose ourselves again.
Deciding to step away isn't a failure; it's an act of self-preservation and self-respect. The end of a relationship often brings a swirl of emotions: sadness, anger, relief, nostalgia. It's natural to grieve what's no longer, to feel the weight of unmet expectations and lost potential. Grieving a relationship doesn't only mean mourning the person; it often means grieving the future you imagined with them. It's a tender process but can also be a pathway to healing and clarity.
One of this year's most freeing realizations came when I chose to let go of a friendship with a woman I'd long suspected didn't truly like me. For years, I second-guessed myself, wondering if I was being unfair, if perhaps I had misread her intentions. I gave her not just second chances, but third, fourth, and nearly a fifth—holding onto the hope that she would one day show me care and reciprocity. But deep down, in the quietest corners of my heart, I already knew the truth: She wasn't my friend and she didn't want to be.
For a time, the memories of our good moments clouded my resolve. I replayed laughter and conversations that once felt light and joyful, and I almost let those glimpses of goodness convince me to reopen the door. But the clarity that followed was life-changing: reflecting on the good times does not mean I have to reenter the relationship. It's possible to honor what once was—to smile at the memories, to appreciate the lessons the connection offered—and still move forward without looking back. Nostalgia isn't a summons—it's a reminder of a chapter in your life. It's okay to remember while [also] staying resolute in your decision to let go.
Liberation, I've learned, isn't always loud or dramatic. Sometimes, it's a quiet yet clear decision to choose yourself. To trust that letting go doesn't erase the joy you once shared but instead makes room for relationships rooted in mutual respect, care, and love.
Letting go can be a form of gratitude, not just for the lessons learned but for the courage to move beyond what no longer aligns.
Releasing a relationship doesn't mean forgetting, and it doesn't mean bitterness. Gratitude and grief can coexist. You can feel thankful for what the relationship taught you—about love, boundaries, and yourself—while recognizing that its ending was necessary. Some relationships serve a purpose, but not every relationship is meant to be enduring.
Seasons change. People grow together and apart. There are lessons and blessings in both.
For those who find themselves navigating the delicate balance of missing someone while knowing that reconciliation isn't the path to healing, here are gentle reminders to hold close:
Your Feelings Are Sacred: Acknowledge that missing someone doesn't diminish your strength or the validity of your decision. It speaks to your capacity for deep connection and love. Allow yourself to feel without judgment or hesitation. Embracing your emotions is a courageous act of self-compassion.
Love Exists Beyond Distance: Choosing not to mend a relationship doesn't erase the love or care that once flourished. This decision reflects a commitment to your own well-being and peace. Understand that it's possible to hold love in your heart without reopening doors that lead to pain.
Healing Through Gratitude: Let gratitude be a balm for your spirit. Reflect on the joyful moments and the lessons learned. Appreciating what was good can soften the sting of loss and help you find closure. Gratitude transforms memories into stepping stones rather than stumbling blocks.
Trust Your Inner Wisdom: If the relationship harmed your mental health, trust the wisdom that guided you to step away. Healing often requires making difficult choices that honor your well-being. Believe in your growth and the strength it takes to prioritize yourself.
Permission to Move Forward: You have the right to release the relationship entirely. Memories can be cherished without anchoring you to the past. They are chapters in your story but do not define the narrative unfolding ahead. Embrace the freedom to write new chapters filled with hope and self-love.
Remember, moving forward doesn't negate the value of what once was—it affirms your commitment to a healthier, more fulfilling journey ahead. You can honor the past while embracing a future that nurtures your soul.
Walking away from a romantic, platonic, or familial relationship is an act of profound bravery. It requires a deep well of self-love to say: This connection does not nurture me in the way I deserve. It's a testament to your wisdom to recognize that you can honor the good moments, the laughter, and the lessons without tethering yourself to something that disrupts your peace. Coming to terms with the fact that some relationships can be saved and some cannot not will take a lot of patience, compassion, and honesty.
Letting go is often framed as a loss, but with time, you'll come to see it as something far greater—an opening. An expansion. A way forward.
By releasing what no longer aligns with your well-being, we create space for relationships rooted in reciprocity that leave us feeling emotionally well nourished. We all deserve to be and feel safe, loved, and whole in our relationships with others.
It's okay to miss what was. Missing doesn't diminish your strength or mean you've made the wrong choice. It simply means you're human. And it's equally okay to celebrate what the ending has made possible—a clearer path, a lighter heart, and a future unburdened by what was never truly yours to carry. Some goodbyes are not about endings at all—they are beginnings—and that is something worth celebrating.
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This was my lesson. Over and over. Stepping away from anything and anyone that did not deserve me. What a blessing you reminded me of today with this … hats off to you!
I wept reading this. It’s like you’ve read all of my journals and heard my deepest and most intimate conversations with God. Thank you so much for sharing this—for seeing me, and making space for me here in these words. Sending so much love and gratitude to you. 🩷