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It Was Never Mine to Keep





I used to think letting go meant losing. Like if I loosened my grip for even a second... everything would fall apart. My plans. My people...my carefully constructed illusion that I was in charge of anything at all.

So I held on. To outcomes that wouldn’t bend... conversations that already ended. To versions of people that didn’t exist anymore... maybe never did.

Meanwhile, life kept tapping me on the shoulder like, “Hey... you’re squeezing the air out of this.”

But I didn’t listen.

Because holding on feels productive. It feels like effort. Like love. Like control wearing a name tag that says “I care.”

Letting go feels like standing empty-handed in the middle of the room hoping something good still finds you.

Which is... not a comfortable hobby or place to be.

The other night, I was watching Sadie and Abbey in the backyard because spring finally arrived. Rosie sprinting in circles like she just got promoted to Director of Energy. Benji walking slowly behind her like, “I’m too old for this... but I’ll supervise.”

Sadie had a balloon. The cheap kind from our Dollar Tree. One bad decision away from tragedy.

And Abbey said, “Don’t let go.”

Which, honestly, is the mission statement of most of my mistakes.

So Sadie held it tighter.

And tighter.

Until... pop.

Gone.

Not because she let go. Because she wouldn’t.

She just stood there... holding the part that used to be something. Scared and crying...

I looked at Erin and said, “That feels about right.” She didn’t even look at me. Just said, “You think?”

I'm beginning to understand...

Letting go isn’t about losing the thing. It’s about losing the illusion that you were the one holding it together.

Because you weren’t. You were just gripping it hard enough to believe you were.

And maybe... the things meant for you don’t need to be strangled to stay.

Maybe they need open hands.

Room to breathe.

A little trust.

Because what’s for you doesn’t need a chokehold.

And what leaves when you loosen your grip... was never yours to keep.

So I’m learning... slowly...to open my hands.

To give it to God.

To stop confusing control with love.

Because the truth is... the best things in my life...

Erin’s laugh (a rare thing)...
Sadie’s questions...
Abbey’s fire...
Rosie losing her mind for no reason...
Benji pretending he’s not enjoying it...

None of it stays because I hold it tight.

It stays because it was given.

And one day... all of it will be released anyway.

Not by choice but by time.

What scares me is that I’ve spent years afraid of letting go...

when the real loss was...

I was holding on so tightly...

I never actually felt what I already had...

until it was gone. ❤️






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