The Grief of Standing in Your Truth

I recently ended a relationship I deeply knew I needed to let go of, but the dopamine high of it kept me addicted, wanting more.

So after a month, I realized that I have to stop playing with the fire (unless I wanted to get burned) and let it simmer down to just smoke.

It wasn't about him. It was about what I kept reaching for in him.

Validation?

Care he didn’t have the capacity to give?

Love? Belonging? Acceptance?

In the smoke, I found clarity but also so much grief.

Grief that felt raw.
Grief that made me sit to re-examine my values, morals… my why.

As I sat in the examination room, little Jeneva showed up in tears. She told me, "I understand why we played with the fire for as long as we did. The heat kept us warm, in an environment that often feels so cold. This pattern has been repeating for a while… the wanting to be seen, validated, appreciated, held…

The feelings aren't new. This experience isn't new. But this time is new…"

As she wiped her tears, she told me, "I am proud of us. This time around, we played with the fire for less time than we have in the past. We heard our voice more strongly and trusted it more than before. We didn't seek external validation but listened to our internal validation."

She then smiled and said, "We are in alignment even though the grief feels heavy. We are doing the work that isn't only healing us but the generations before and after."

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I cried as I wrote this because ending patterns and generational wounds isn't easy.

Somewhere, a version of me that came before didn't get to do this work. And somewhere, a version of me that comes after won't have to carry what I just put down.

I'm grateful for the lessons, the platform to share, and for you choosing to read.

Much love.