The Art of Letting Go pt.1

For the last 2 weeks I have cried so many tears. It has not been of sadness or anger(well some of them maybe). The large majority were of release. My heart has peace. My spirit is of joy and gratitude.

After fighting both God and myself for nearly a year I have submitted. The fighter in me was finally spent enough to stand still and actually see all that the Father has, is, and will do for me.

I’ve been through so much since my mother passed, both good and bad. Ups and downs. All of it was my choice. I chose to put myself through all of it. My angels watched, He watched, and no matter how hard I tried to self sabotage His grace kept me. I thank God for the blessing.

It has not been easy but any experience worth remembering ever is. In the last month, I had the wind knocked out of me again and I was still reeling from February through July where my townhome was flooded, my car was hit by a bus, and my job held me in limbo without sick or vacation time to fix any of it for jobs that they knew shortly after interview they were not going to give me. I made all the right moves, I opened my heart and asked for what I know I deserved. The fighter in me made me go harder the more resistance I was met with. That same fighter refused to admit defeat, let alone acknowledge I was showing up and out for the wrong battles.

When I was ready I woke up and just stood still. I stopped trying to save the world, fix everyone’s problems, and started working on simply what’s made me happy. The fact is, for longer than I can remember, maybe my entire life I’ve been some what of a fixer of all things broken. It’s genetic and not to be confused with someone who plays the martyr. It also is what makes me a successful nurse. I heal, repair, rescue, and protect everyone and everything. That is I do this all, many times without having to be asked in every situation except the ones that involve my own best interest. Selfish is a dirty word that contaminates thoughts and corrupts lives. That is until this moment.

As I sit across from my daughter watching her gobble down sour patches I know my life is changed in a much bigger way than the slight yawn of this moment denotes. I’m not going back either now. I’ve come too far. I’m moving forward with confidence in the yet still quiet voice inside demanding something more of my life and I’m choosing to write it down for other “fixers” as a guide to finding their own happy amongst the devastation of situations exploding in your face and the carcasses of dreams snuffed out by unsolicited sacrifices. In reading my own calamity I hope that you may too learn the art of letting go.

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