Something in your life isn’t working. Maybe you are tolerating something you know you shouldn’t be tolerating. Or allowing someone to ignore your boundaries or values. Or putting your valuable energy into that thing that is just awful. Or telling yourself that so-so is OK.
Whatever it is, you know it isn’t working.
So at some point, in your own time, you let it go. Or, I should say, you start to let it go.
And, of course, that process isn’t easy. But you soldier on.
As you move in one direction, you can still sometimes see “it” in your rearview-mirror and maybe you even give yourself a little pat on the back or high-five as you see how far you have come. You may even feel a little cocky. “If I can do this, I can do anything!”
And, why not? You let that thing — whether it was a person, a relationship, a job, a situation — whatever — go. You declared that it wasn’t right or working for you and you put you first. And that felt good. Because you knew you were doing the thing that was the right thing for you. Not always the easiest thing, but the right thing.
So you are cruising along, allowing that occasional pat on the back, minding your own business and focused on the business of healing yourself when all of a sudden, out of nowhere, boom! You see it. Or feel it. Or know it.
That thing or person or place that you left behind somehow shows up again. Maybe it is in the form of a conversation that you thought you’d moved beyond. Or an emotion or reaction you were sure this person or place could no longer elicit in you. Or a date or former milestone that you were sure no longer mattered to you.
Whatever it is, you find yourself back there. There. The place (or person or relationship) you left. The place (or person or relationship) without which you are so much better off. You have come so very far and yet somehow there you are…right back where you started from.
And how does that feel?
You feel like that person again. The one you no longer wanted to be. The one who feels in ways you never wanted to feel again. The one who says and thinks things that aren’t congruent with the person you know you are now.
You wonder if you actually made the progress you thought you made or healed as much as you thought you healed. You question yourself. You doubt. You start to re-play those movies you never thought you’d be playing in your head again.
And, yet, as the old scenario plays its sorry self out yet again, something new inside you — despite the wondering and doubt and movie-playing and not agains — flickers on. Call it your soul, your intuition, God, your knowing. I don’t know what to call it and it doesn’t much matter what name you give it. What does much matter is that it knows.
It knows that you have changed. That you are good (not bad or stupid or weak as this scenario might have you believe). That you are healing. That you are not that same person you once were in that place you once hated. It, as both a detached yet loving observer, reminds you:
This is different.
You are different.
You’ve moved on.
You are no longer stuck in that place.
You got out.
You know that this time, you will keep moving. You are now the person you dreamed of being then. You have different tools and a new frame of reference.
You are better.
You know that this time is different