A Breakup Letter To Fear
Dear Fear,
It’s not you, it’s me.
I realize that your intentions are good. That you’re only doing what you think will keep me safe and comfortable. Your main goal is to protect me. And quite frankly, you’ve done a great job. I’m still here after all. I’m healthy and happy and you’ve stopped me from getting into some pretty dangerous situations. So, thank you.
But it’s time for me to move on.
I’m ready to stop playing small. And that’s all you seem to want to do. I’ve recently discovered that I’m through with pursuing the path of least resistance. I want a life that overflows, that bubbles and pops. I want a life I get to live out loud. And I can’t do that with you always whispering sweet nothings in my ear.
Our relationship is beginning to feel like walking around in wet clothing. You’re weighing me down. You’re heavy and uncomfortable and a little icky. I think we’d both feel better if I took you off and put on something new.
Quite frankly, you’re in my way. You’re standing directly in front of everything I want. You’re a big, scary distraction, and I’m ready to stop spending so much time with you.
I know you think I’m not strong enough to do this on my own. That’s where you’re wrong; I am strong enough. I’m much stronger than you ever gave me credit for. And yes, it will probably be uncomfortable. I might get hurt and my hopes might get dashed and my heart might splinter into a tiny thousand pieces. But it’s worth it. I’m finally starting to believe that it’s worth it. Because living with you feels like a slow death. Every moment I spend with you is one less moment that I get to be myself. You’ve turned me into someone I’m not, and I won’t stay here with you anymore. I won’t stay.
I can handle being scared. I can handle being rejected. I can handle having my dreams crushed by the weight of the world. But I can’t handle not trying. I can’t handle giving up. I can’t handle being stationary.
There’s too much left for me to do. So many things I haven’t seen yet or explored. There are stories to tell and people to meet and experiences to have. There’s a whole life to be lived. And I’m ready to start living it.
I have to let you go now. I have to stop whispering your name in the middle of the night. I have to put the phone down and stop stalking your Instagram.
I’m ready to move on. Really and truly. For once and for all. I am ready to do life without you.
I know we will see each other around. This town isn’t all that big. I promise to be cordial. I’ll smile and acknowledge your presence. I’ll even have dinner with you from time to time. But I refuse to let you in again. I refuse to let you set up camp in my heart.
Because you can’t have me anymore. Do you hear me? You can’t have me.
I wish you all the best,
Jillian.