A lot of people poo-poo the idea of New Year’s Resolutions, but every year around this time I try (even if informally) to ask myself what aspects of my life I could stand to improve on. What should I do differently? Are there things I’ve been needing to do but just haven’t for some reason, or even more importantly– are there things I’ve been doing that might be holding me back from the kind of growth I want to see within myself? I take a hard look at the past year, the successes and failures, and then make a conscious effort to actually do more of (or in some cases, stop doing) those things.
A few years back, I decided to be more direct. That was my primary resolution and I have to say, it wasn’t easy. I had to constantly remind myself not to take the easy way out in tricky situations, but rather be honest with myself and others—be direct, yet still kind. I stuck to it all year, and I honestly think it changed the way I interact with people even now. That’s the thing about habits: once you set your mind to making a new one, and you do it long enough, it sticks. And ideally, you’re better for it.
This year is already posting up a challenge. I can feel a particularly nasty old habit creeping back in that needs nipped in the bud. You see, I have a tendency to hold onto things– or more accurately, people– even long after that relationship’s expiration date. Somewhere along the way, I picked up an overly rosy outlook when it comes to giving people the benefit of the doubt, even after they’ve shattered any reason to do so.
My brother and I were talking recently about how we each define ourselves. For example, he’s a story teller. Our mother is a nurse, a fixer. And I define myself by the relationships I have– with my friends, my spouse, my son, my customers, even people I pass on the street. I have always felt things very deeply, and I draw a tremendous amount of strength from connecting with people. And by the same token, the source of my greatest pain has always been the hurt that can come from those relationships.
Last year brought a lot of pain in the form of lost friendships. I found out a friend did something abominable to someone else I cared about. I tried talking directly to the person about it, pleading with them to do the right thing. I tried to understand, to process, to wrap my head around what this breach of trust would mean for not just our friendship, but other close ones as well. And my friend turned on me, misplacing the blame, lashing out. I watched the fallout from it. I cried a lot. And now, over a year later, after tentatively offering not one, but two olive branches, what I’m getting in return is hate mail tucked under my windshield wiper telling me to disappear. It’s that kind of pain that has no place in my life anymore.
So, I will let it go. Despite the wounds, or maybe because of them, I find strength. I close my eyes and just breathe. I focus on love. I tell myself that no one, other than me, can define me. I feel the pain, I acknowledge it–but I breathe it out. I let it go. In the words of Jason Mraz, “pause, take a breath, and let the chapter end.” When you’ve said what you need to say, when you’ve done whatever you can, when you’ve allowed for space and healing, yet when continuing to hold on causes nothing but pain– it’s time to let go.
This year, I will…
Recognize that there is peace in letting go.
Focus on the people I love, not on relationships that have expired.
Be there.
Be LOVE.
So very, very true, especially in the light of toxic relationship. No matter how badly we want it not to be so you can’t unspoil milk. Time to pull the plug and dump it down the drain.
Good blog, Annie. Make them more frequent!