letting go

Slay Say

Growth doesn’t always announce itself with conflict or closure.
Sometimes it happens quietly—internally—when your values shift, your boundaries strengthen, and your sense of self becomes clearer.

As you evolve, your needs change.
Your tolerance changes.
Your definition of connection changes.

What once felt aligned may start to feel heavy.
What once fit may begin to chafe.
And that’s not failure—it’s information.

You don’t need to explain every transition.
You don’t need to force endings or justify distance.
When you honor your growth, the misalignments reveal themselves naturally.

This is your reminder to trust the process of becoming more yourself.

Slay on.

Sometimes You’re Not Getting Closure You Have to Close the Door Yourself

There’s a belief many of us hold onto longer than we should:
that closure comes from another person.

From an apology.
From an explanation.
From a final conversation that magically makes everything make sense.

But real life rarely works that way.

Sometimes the person who hurt you won’t take accountability.
Sometimes they won’t explain themselves.
Sometimes they won’t even acknowledge the damage they caused.

And waiting for closure that never comes can quietly keep you stuck.

Here’s the hard truth most healing journeys eventually teach us:
Sometimes you’re not getting closure — you have to close the door yourself.

The Myth of Closure From Other People

We’re taught that healing requires answers. That if we just understood why, we could finally move on.

So we replay conversations.
We analyze behavior.
We wait for messages that never arrive.
We imagine scenarios where they finally “get it.”

But closure that depends on someone else keeps your peace hostage.

Because when closure lives in their hands, your healing is delayed by their willingness — or lack of it — to show up differently.

And not everyone will.

Why Waiting for Closure Keeps You Stuck

Waiting for closure often looks like hope — but underneath it is attachment.

Attachment to a version of the story where things end neatly.
Attachment to the belief that their words could soothe your pain.
Attachment to the idea that you need their validation to move forward.

But here’s what waiting really does:

It keeps the door cracked open.
It keeps your nervous system braced.
It keeps you emotionally tethered to something that’s already over.

And every time you wait, you reopen the wound.

Not because you’re weak — but because you’re human.

Closure Is an Inside Job

True closure doesn’t come from understanding them.
It comes from understanding yourself.

It comes from accepting what happened without needing it to be justified.
From acknowledging that something hurt — even if it was never named as such.
From deciding that your peace matters more than their explanation.

Closure is the moment you stop asking, “Why did they do this?”
and start asking, “What do I need to feel whole again?”

That shift changes everything.

Closing the Door Doesn’t Mean You Didn’t Care

One of the hardest parts of closing the door yourself is the guilt.

We tell ourselves:

  • If I move on without closure, maybe I’m being dramatic
  • If I stop waiting, maybe I’m giving up too soon
  • If I close the door, maybe it means it didn’t matter

But closing the door doesn’t erase the meaning of what you shared.

It honors it.

It says: This mattered — which is why I won’t keep bleeding over it.

You can care deeply and still choose to walk away.
You can love someone and still choose yourself.
You can grieve what was and release what will never be.

Acceptance Is Not the Same as Approval

Closing the door doesn’t mean you agree with what happened.
It doesn’t mean you excuse harm.
It doesn’t mean you pretend it didn’t affect you.

Acceptance simply means you stop fighting reality.

You stop trying to rewrite the past.
You stop hoping someone becomes who they never were.
You stop giving energy to a story that has already reached its end.

Acceptance is choosing peace over explanation.
Freedom over familiarity.
Healing over waiting.

You Don’t Need the Final Word

Sometimes the most powerful ending is the one no one else hears.

No confrontation.
No dramatic exit.
No final paragraph explaining your pain.

Just clarity.
Just boundaries.
Just the quiet decision to close the door and lock it behind you.

You don’t owe everyone access to your healing.
You don’t owe anyone a front-row seat to your growth.
And you don’t need permission to move on.

Closing the Door Is an Act of Self-Respect

When you close the door yourself, you reclaim your power.

You stop outsourcing your peace.
You stop waiting to be chosen, understood, or validated.
You become the authority in your own life again.

And that choice — that moment — is where healing accelerates.

Because energy flows where attention goes.
And once you stop pouring attention into what ended, you create space for what’s next.

What Awaits You on the Other Side

On the other side of the door isn’t bitterness.
It’s relief.

It’s quiet.
It’s clarity.
It’s a nervous system that finally gets to rest.

You may still feel sadness.
You may still feel grief.
But you’ll also feel lighter — because you’re no longer carrying hope for something that cannot meet you.

Sometimes closure doesn’t arrive with answers.
It arrives with courage.

The courage to say: This chapter is over — and I’m choosing to move forward.

SLAY Reflection

Let’s reflect, SLAYER:

S: Where in your life are you waiting for closure that may never come?
L: What door have you kept open that’s costing you peace?
A: What would it look like to give yourself the closure you’ve been waiting for?
Y: How might your life shift if you chose peace over explanation?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
Have you ever had to close the door without getting the closure you hoped for — and what did that teach you?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s waiting for answers that aren’t coming, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Slay Say

So much of what weighs on you happens quietly, internally.
The second-guessing.
The overthinking.
The fear that you’re being watched, measured, judged.

But most of that pressure isn’t real — it’s imagined.
It’s the mind looping through worries that no one else is replaying.
While you’re dissecting every move, most people are navigating their own uncertainties, carrying their own doubts, and trying to find their footing too.

You don’t need to be flawless to move forward.
You don’t need to shrink to stay safe.
You don’t need to carry a spotlight that isn’t actually on you.

Freedom begins when you stop living as if you’re being graded —
and start living as if you’re allowed to learn.

This is your reminder to release the unnecessary weight you’re carrying and move with more ease, more grace, and far less fear.

Slay on!

Slay Say

You discover who you are the moment you stop auditioning for acceptance.

We learn to shape-shift early.
To fit the room.
To earn approval.
To become what makes others comfortable—even if it costs us pieces of ourselves.

But there comes a moment when the performance gets too heavy.
When pretending feels louder than truth.
When the mask you’ve been holding starts to slip…
and underneath it is the version of you that’s been waiting for air.

Real identity isn’t found in perfection or presentation.
It’s found in the quiet courage to show up as yourself—without shrinking, without apologizing, without molding your worth around someone else’s gaze.

Stepping out of the role others expect isn’t rebellion.
It’s alignment.
It’s freedom.
It’s the first step toward a life that finally fits.

This is your reminder:
You don’t need to audition for a role that was already yours.

Slay on!

You Can Forgive Someone Without Giving Them Access to You

Forgiveness is freedom, not a front-row pass

There’s a moment in healing that feels like a crossroads.
You’ve done the work.
You’ve cried the tears.
You’ve processed the pain.
And you finally arrive at forgiveness — not to excuse what was done, but to release what it did to you.

But then comes the question that catches so many of us off guard:

Does forgiving someone mean they get to come back?

For years, I thought the answer was yes.

I believed forgiveness meant reconciliation.
I believed healing meant returning to the way things were.
I believed I had to reopen the door simply because I had released the hurt.

But with time, experience, heartbreak, boundary-setting, and a few painfully earned lessons, I learned the truth:

You can forgive someone and still deny them access to you.
Forgiveness is a gift you give yourself.
Access is a privilege they have to earn.

Those two things are not the same.

Forgiveness Isn’t a Free Pass

Forgiveness is often misunderstood. Many people think it means:

  • “We’re good now.”
  • “It wasn’t that bad.”
  • “Let’s forget it happened.”
  • “The relationship should go back to normal.”

But forgiveness does not rewrite history. It does not minimize harm. It does not pretend you weren’t hurt.

Forgiveness simply means:
“I’m releasing the emotional hold this has on me.”

It’s internal.
It’s personal.
It’s sacred.

Forgiveness is about you finding peace — not about making someone else comfortable.

You can forgive someone and still say:

  • “I no longer trust you.”
  • “Your behavior hasn’t changed.”
  • “My boundaries matter.”
  • “This relationship is not safe for me.”
  • “I choose to love myself enough to step away.”

And every one of those statements can exist perfectly alongside forgiveness.

Access Requires Accountability

Here’s the part most people don’t understand:

Forgiveness is unconditional.
Access is not.

Access requires:

  • Changed behavior
  • Accountability
  • Consistency
  • Respect
  • Emotional safety
  • Mutual effort

If someone wants a place in your life, their actions should reflect it.
Their words should align with their behavior.
Their presence should feel safe, not draining.
Their energy should add, not take.

You don’t deny access out of spite.
You deny access because your peace is non-negotiable.

It is not punishment.
It is protection.

People who truly care about you will understand that.
People who don’t will call it “overreacting” or “holding a grudge,” simply because they no longer benefit from your openness.

Forgiveness Without Reconciliation Is Still Forgiveness

A lot of people grew up being taught that forgiveness meant you had to:

  • rebuild relationships
  • pretend nothing happened
  • stay connected
  • be endlessly available

But that version of forgiveness keeps you trapped.
It keeps you small.
It keeps you in cycles of harm.

Forgiveness without reconciliation is still forgiveness.
You can release resentment without reopening the door.
You can wish someone well from a distance.
You can send them love and keep them out of your life.

There is power in that duality:

“I forgive you.
And you still don’t get access to me.”

Both can be true.
Both can be healthy.
Both can be healing.

Protecting Your Peace Is an Act of Self-Respect

There comes a point where you stop asking:

“Do they deserve another chance?”

And start asking:

“Does this support my peace, my growth, and my well-being?”

Sometimes the answer is yes.
Sometimes it’s no.
Sometimes it’s “not right now.”

And sometimes it’s “never again.”

Choosing distance is not bitterness.
It’s clarity.
It’s self-respect.
It’s honoring the version of you who finally learned what they deserve.

There is nothing unkind about protecting your emotional, mental, or physical safety.
There is nothing cruel about refusing to reenter the same cycle.
There is nothing wrong with outgrowing people who continue to harm you — even if you love them.

Protecting your peace is not a betrayal of love —
it’s a commitment to yourself.

Rebuilding Is a Choice, Not an Obligation

Some people will change.
Some people will grow.
Some people will show up differently.

And if that happens — and if you want to rebuild — that choice is yours.

But rebuilding should never come from guilt.
Or pressure.
Or obligation.
Or fear of what other people will think.

A relationship can only be rebuilt on:

  • truth
  • accountability
  • honesty
  • change
  • mutual respect
  • time
  • consistency

Not empty promises or short-term effort.

You decide what access looks like.
You decide what level of connection you’re open to.
You decide whether the door is closed, cracked, or locked.

You don’t owe anyone an explanation.
Your healing is not a group decision.

Forgiveness Sets You Free — Not Them

One of the most liberating things you’ll ever learn is this:

Forgiveness is not for them.
It’s for you.

It frees your mind.
It clears your heart.
It releases the emotional weight tethering you to the past.

But it does not require:

  • returning
  • reconciling
  • reconnecting
  • reopening
  • reengaging

Your healing does not depend on the relationship surviving.
Some chapters end so you can reclaim your peace.
Some endings are the closure you’ve been searching for.
Some boundaries are the doorway to your freedom.

Allowing someone access again is an entirely separate choice — one they must earn, not one automatically granted because you chose your own healing.

SLAY Reflection

S — Sit With Your Truth

What relationship in your life have you maintained out of obligation rather than genuine safety or connection?

L — Look at the Pattern

Have you confused forgiveness with permission in the past? What did that lead to?

A — Align With Your Values

What boundaries need to be honored for you to feel emotionally safe again?

Y — Yield to Growth

How can you release the hurt while still protecting your peace moving forward?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
When have you forgiven someone but still chosen distance — and how did that decision support your healing?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s working on releasing hurt without reopening old wounds, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Slay Say

Not everything that blooms belongs in your garden.

We often try to nurture what no longer nourishes us—out of habit, hope, or the belief that letting go means we somehow failed.
But your energy is sacred. Your peace is sacred.
And anything that wilts at the first sign of your growth was never meant to stay.

Tending to your life means choosing what supports you, sustains you, and strengthens you.
It means recognizing when something only grows at the expense of your well-being.
And it means giving yourself permission to release what no longer deserves a place in your soil.

This is your reminder:
You are allowed to protect your garden—even if that means pulling the things you once cared for.

Slay on.

Some People Come Into Your Life to Teach You How to Let Go

There are people you meet who feel like they’re meant to stay forever. People you pour into, fight for, grow with, or dream alongside. And yet, despite all of that hope and history, they don’t stay. They can’t. They weren’t meant to.

It’s painful to admit that not every person who walks into your life is meant to stay in it. But there’s a deeper truth beneath that loss — some people come into your life to teach you how to let go.

Letting go is not something we’re taught. It’s something we learn the hard way. Through heartbreak. Through disappointment. Through the quiet ache of expectations that were never met. But letting go is also one of the greatest skills you will ever learn, because it frees you to live in alignment with your truth instead of your attachments.

This is a lesson that becomes clearer the farther you get from the moment you thought would break you. With time and healing, you realize: letting go wasn’t a punishment — it was preparation.

When Holding On Hurts More Than Letting Go

We often cling to people long after their role in our lives has ended. Maybe it’s because they once made us feel seen. Maybe it’s because we fear the emptiness they’ll leave behind. Maybe it’s because we’re trying to recreate a version of ourselves we once were.

But there is a cost to holding on past the expiration of a connection. It drains your energy. It blurs your boundaries. It keeps you anchored in a past that can’t move with you into your future.

Letting go doesn’t mean the relationship was meaningless. It means the chapter has closed.

Some people aren’t meant to walk your whole path with you — they are meant to walk you to the point where you learn to walk it on your own.

Every Person Is Either a Lesson or a Mirror

When someone enters your life, they bring something with them:
A lesson.
A mirror.
A wound.
A truth.

Some people remind you what you deserve.
Others remind you what you should never accept again.
Some teach you how to love.
Others teach you when to leave.
And some teach you the most transformative lesson of all — how to release something that is no longer aligned with who you are becoming.

No lesson is wasted. Even the painful ones refine you, shape you, strengthen you. They teach you what your heart can survive and what your spirit can rise from.

Letting Go Is an Act of Self-Love

We tend to think letting go is something that happens to us. But in truth, letting go is something we choose. It is an act of self-respect. A declaration of alignment. A bold reclaiming of your peace.

Letting go says:
I deserve reciprocity.
I deserve honesty.
I deserve presence.
I deserve the kind of connection that nurtures me, not drains me.

Letting go is not the closing of your heart — it is the opening of your life to what is meant for you.

When you hold on to someone who isn’t choosing you, you abandon yourself in the process. When you let go, you return to yourself.

Sometimes Letting Go Is the Lesson You Needed Most

Think of the people you’ve released — gently or painfully, slowly or suddenly. What did you learn from their presence? And what did you learn from their absence?

Maybe you learned the difference between attachment and connection.
Maybe you learned how strong you can be by walking away.
Maybe you learned to stop begging for the bare minimum.
Or maybe you learned that losing them wasn’t losing yourself — it was finding yourself.

Some people leave because their lesson is complete.
Some people leave because you’ve outgrown the version of yourself that once needed them.
And some people leave because life has something far better waiting for you.

Letting go makes space for what your heart is truly calling in.

How to Let Go With Grace Instead of Guilt

Letting go doesn’t always come naturally — especially if you are someone who loves deeply, empathizes easily, or tries to fix what isn’t yours to fix. Here are ways to release with compassion:

1. Accept the truth instead of the potential.

You can’t love someone’s potential into reality. You can only love what is true today.

2. Stop rewriting their actions to protect your hope.

People show you who they are through their consistency. Believe what is being shown.

3. Let the goodbye be a boundary, not a punishment.

You’re not being cruel. You’re choosing peace.

4. Release the story you created about what this person was supposed to be.

The attachment often hurts more than the reality.

5. Trust that letting go won’t leave you empty — it will leave you open.

Everything you release creates space for what’s aligned.

The more you practice letting go, the more you learn that letting go is not a loss — it is liberation.

SLAY Reflection

  1. Who taught you a lesson simply by leaving your life?
  2. What relationship are you holding onto that no longer supports your growth?
  3. What fear comes up when you think about letting go?
  4. How would your life expand if you released what’s draining you?
  5. What does honoring your future self look like in this situation?
  • S – Surrender what no longer aligns with your growth
  • L – Let the lesson guide you, not the loss
  • A – Allow your future to open, unburdened
  • Y – Yield to your peace and trust the release

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
Who came into your life to teach you the art of letting go — and what did that lesson reveal about you?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s holding on to something — or someone — that’s hurting them, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a reminder that letting go is not the end. It’s the beginning.

The Version of Me You Created in Your Mind Is Not My Responsibility

There comes a point in your life when you realize something deeply liberating — yet deeply uncomfortable:

You are not responsible for the version of you that someone else created in their mind.

Not the fantasy.
Not the projection.
Not the character they turned you into inside their own story.
Not the hero. Not the villain. Not the fixer. Not the savior.

You are only responsible for the real you — the complex, changing, growing human being you actually are.

But for many of us, this truth feels like rebellion. We’ve spent so much of our lives trying to manage how others see us, bending ourselves into shapes that made them more comfortable, safer, happier, or less threatened.

We’ve apologized for things we didn’t do.
We’ve shrunk to avoid being misunderstood.
We’ve over-performed to be liked.
We’ve stayed silent to stay accepted.
We’ve carried blame that was never ours to carry.

But here’s the truth:
You cannot control the story someone else tells about you.
And you are no longer required to play a role you didn’t audition for.

Why People Create Versions of You

People build their own version of you for many reasons — none of which have anything to do with your worth.

Sometimes it’s because:

  • They need you to fill a role they’re afraid to fill themselves.
  • They see you through the lens of their own wounds.
  • They project their insecurities onto you.
  • They want you to stay the same so they don’t have to change.
  • They mistake your kindness for weakness.
  • They confuse your boundaries for rejection.
  • They prefer the idea of you over the reality of you.

But the version they create is theirs — not yours.

When someone builds a fantasy of you, it’s because they can’t face something in themselves.
When someone builds a villain out of you, it’s because they need a place to direct their pain.

Either way, it’s not your job to fix their story.

The Burden of Carrying Someone Else’s Narrative

Trying to live up to someone else’s imagined version of you is exhausting.

You end up:

  • performing instead of living
  • defending instead of connecting
  • proving instead of being
  • apologizing instead of growing

You shrink yourself to fit their expectations.
You become hyper-aware of their moods, their reactions, their interpretations.
You start to question your own motives, your own truth, your own voice.

It is emotional labor that was never yours to do.

You don’t need to shape-shift to avoid disappointing someone who was never seeing you clearly in the first place.
You don’t need to be responsible for the story they tell themselves.

You only need to be responsible for who you actually are.

When You Stop Carrying Their Story, Everything Shifts

The moment you stop trying to manage someone’s version of you, something miraculous happens:

You begin to breathe again.

You begin to stand taller.
You speak with more clarity.
You stop explaining yourself to people committed to misunderstanding you.
You stop negotiating your worth.
You stop shrinking so others feel bigger.
You stop apologizing for existing as you are.

People who love the real you will move closer.
People who only loved the idea of you will fall away.

And that’s how you know you’re finally aligned.

You Are Allowed to Change

One of the biggest reasons people hold you to an outdated version of yourself is because growth threatens the story they depend on.

You are allowed to evolve.
You are allowed to outgrow behaviors.
You are allowed to heal.
You are allowed to set new boundaries.
You are allowed to want better for yourself.
You are allowed to walk away from the environments that hurt you.

Your evolution is not a betrayal — it’s your responsibility.

And if someone refuses to acknowledge who you are now because they’re attached to who you used to be?
That’s their limitation, not yours.

The Freedom of Living as Your True Self

When you let go of the responsibility for other people’s perceptions, you reclaim your power.

That power sounds like:

“I’m not going to shrink to make you comfortable.”
“I don’t owe you the version of me that benefits you.”
“I won’t apologize for growing.”
“I am not available for projections.”
“My identity is not up for negotiation.”

This doesn’t make you harsh.
It makes you whole.

Because living as your truest self isn’t about being defiant — it’s about being aligned.
And when you are aligned, the right people will understand you intuitively.

What You Are Responsible For

Even though you are not responsible for the version of you people create, there are things you are responsible for.

You are responsible for:

  • your actions
  • your growth
  • your words
  • your boundaries
  • your healing
  • your truth
  • your intentions

You are not responsible for:

  • someone’s assumptions
  • someone’s projections
  • someone’s fantasies
  • someone’s insecurities
  • someone’s misinterpretations
  • someone’s made-up stories
  • someone’s expectations that deny your humanity

The distinction will set you free.

How to Release the Weight of Someone Else’s Version of You

This is the work:

1. Stop over-explaining yourself.

People committed to misunderstanding you aren’t looking for clarity — they’re looking for confirmation of their story.

2. Set boundaries around your energy.

If someone drains you because they only relate to the version of you in their head, you’re allowed to step back.

3. Stay grounded in your truth.

Write it down. Speak it. Live it.
Your truth will anchor you while others spin their own narratives.

4. Give yourself permission to evolve.

You are not obligated to stay who someone remembers you to be.

5. Accept that not everyone gets access to the real you.

Your authenticity is sacred. Not everyone gets a front-row seat.

Releasing their version of you is a reclaiming.
It’s choosing yourself over illusion.
It’s choosing truth over performance.
It’s choosing alignment over approval.

SLAY Reflection

  1. Whose version of you have you been trying to live up to?
  2. What parts of yourself have you hidden to fit someone else’s expectations?
  3. What boundaries would protect your authentic self?
  4. How do you act when you’re being the real you versus the projected you?
  5. What would it feel like to stop performing entirely?
  • S – Stand in your truth without apology
  • L – Let go of the stories others create about you
  • A – Align with who you are today, not who you used to be
  • Y – Yield to your authentic self and release the rest

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
Whose imagined version of you are you finally ready to release?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who feels trapped inside someone else’s expectations, send this their way.
Sometimes, all we need is permission to be who we actually are.

Slay Say

Honor What’s Meant to Stay

Some endings don’t come with closure.
Some people simply slip out of your life
without explanation, apology, or accountability.

And as painful as that silence can be,
it’s also information.

Not everything is meant to be revived.
Not every connection deserves resuscitation.
Sometimes the leaving tells you
everything the staying never could.

Your peace is too precious
to pour into what no longer chooses you.
Let what buried itself remain buried.
Life has a way of removing what can’t grow with you.

This is your reminder:
Your energy belongs where it’s respected,
not where you’re chasing ghosts.

Slay On!

Stop Holding On to What Hurts and Start Holding On to What Makes You Happy

There comes a moment in life—sometimes quiet, sometimes explosive—when you realize you’ve been gripping pain tighter than joy. Holding on to memories that wound you more than they teach you. Clinging to relationships, patterns, or versions of yourself that drain you instead of lift you.

If you’re honest, you might admit you’ve spent years…
holding on to what hurts,
and letting go of what makes you happy.

Not because you wanted to suffer,
but because suffering once felt familiar.
Because pain once felt like home.
Because letting go felt more dangerous than staying stuck.

But here’s the truth you already know deep down:
You cannot build a joyful life while clutching what breaks you.

At some point, you must make the brave choice to loosen your grip.

Why We Hold On to What Hurts

Pain has a way of becoming a habit. We don’t always choose it consciously—it chooses us in a moment of survival, and we never learn how to release it later.

We hold on because:

  • It’s familiar, and familiar feels safe.
  • We think letting go means the pain “wins.”
  • We fear losing people, even if losing ourselves in the process.
  • We confuse suffering with loyalty.
  • We don’t yet believe we deserve better.
  • We’ve built an identity around enduring.

Pain can be strangely comforting. Not because it feels good, but because we’ve learned to navigate it.
Joy, on the other hand, can feel overwhelming. Uncertain. Risky. Vulnerable.

Sometimes, joy is scarier than pain.

But the cost of clinging to hurt is always the same:
your peace, your happiness, and your growth.

Letting Go Isn’t Betrayal — It’s Liberation

You are not betraying anyone when you release what hurts you.
You are not abandoning your past when you choose your future.
You are not selfish for choosing joy over suffering.

Letting go does not mean you’re minimizing what happened.
It means you’re refusing to let it define every chapter that comes next.

When you loosen your grip on pain, you’re making room for:

  • healthier relationships
  • clearer thinking
  • deeper joy
  • emotional stability
  • self-respect
  • peace

You’re not erasing the past—you’re releasing its hold on your present.

Why Happiness Feels Harder to Hold

If you’ve lived through trauma, heartbreak, abandonment, or long-term struggle, happiness can feel foreign. Sometimes even unsafe.

Joy feels like something you must earn.
Something that might be taken away.
Something that can’t be trusted.

So you hold it loosely.
Cautiously.
Suspiciously.

But pain?
You grip that tightly.
Because you’ve already survived it.

Here’s the truth, though:
Joy is not fragile. Fear is.
And the more you practice holding on to what makes you happy, the more natural it becomes.

Happiness Isn’t Accidental — It’s Intentional

You don’t stumble into happiness.
You choose it.
You protect it.
You reach for it when fear tells you not to.

Happiness is built from:

  • boundaries
  • aligned choices
  • self-compassion
  • healthy relationships
  • meaningful routines
  • inner peace
  • permission to feel joy without guilt

You deserve a life where joy isn’t a visitor—
it’s a resident.

How to Stop Holding On to What Hurts

Letting go is both a mindset shift and a daily practice.
Here’s where the shift begins:

1. Acknowledge what hurts you.

You can’t release what you refuse to name.
Brutal honesty is the key that opens the door.

2. Stop giving energy to what drains you.

If something consistently makes you feel anxious, small, or unseen—release your grip.

3. Redefine what loyalty means.

Loyalty to pain is still self-abandonment.
Loyalty to your healing is self-love.

4. Let yourself feel the grief.

Letting go hurts—even when you’re letting go of hurt.
Grief is part of the release.

5. Choose behaviors that support happiness.

Call the friend who makes you feel safe.
Take the walk that clears your mind.
Say no when your soul says no.

Happiness grows where you water it.

How to Start Holding On to What Makes You Happy

You strengthen joy the same way you strengthen a muscle—through repetition.

1. Name what brings you joy.

Small or big, write it down. Joy needs recognition to expand.

2. Prioritize the people who feel like peace.

If someone makes you exhale, stay close.

3. Celebrate progress, not perfection.

Joy is found in the small wins, the quiet moments, the daily choices.

4. Let yourself receive.

Compliments. Help. Rest. Love.
You don’t have to earn joy—it’s your birthright.

5. Protect your peace with boundaries.

Your happiness is sacred. Treat it that way.

Holding on to what makes you happy requires one thing:
believing you deserve to be happy in the first place.

And you do.

Your Life Will Change When Your Grip Changes

When you stop holding on to what hurts—
you stop repeating your old wounds.

When you start holding on to what makes you happy—
you start creating a life you love living.

You’ll notice:

  • your relationships shift
  • your inner dialogue softens
  • your energy changes
  • your confidence grows
  • your peace becomes non-negotiable

This transformation doesn’t happen overnight.
It happens moment by moment, choice by choice.

Pain built the earlier chapters.
Joy gets to build the next ones.

SLAY Reflection

  1. What pain are you still gripping because it feels familiar?
  2. What belief keeps you holding on to things that hurt you?
  3. What brings you joy that you haven’t allowed yourself to prioritize?
  4. Who in your life lifts you higher—and how can you move closer to them?
  5. What is one small joy you can intentionally hold on to today?
  • S – Stop feeding what hurts
  • L – Let joy take up more space
  • A – Align your choices with what brings you peace
  • Y – Yield to happiness instead of fear

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What joy are you choosing to hold on to today—and what pain are you releasing?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s been holding on to hurt for far too long, send them this post.
Sometimes, all we need is a reminder that joy is worth protecting.