Release letter

To the life I thought I had to have,

I release you.

Not with bitterness, not with shame; but with the quiet sigh of someone who has outgrown a story that never quite fit.

I release the 8 years I spent trying to root myself in soil that never felt like nourishing me.
I release the “shoulds” and the silent pressure to be grateful for a life that didn’t light me up.
I release the versions of me that smiled through burnout, wiped away silent tears, and tried to belong in rooms where her heart was absent.

I am not angry. I am just done trying to make a home where my soul feels like a visitor. You gave me lessons. You gave me strength. And now, you have given me clarity.

I know I am still here. Maybe for a year, maybe a little longer.
But from now on, I stay as a nomad, not a settler.
As a dreamer, not as a prisoner.
As a woman on her way home.

My roots are reaching elsewhere now; to music, to movement, to creativity, to freedom.
To home.
To joy.
To myself.

I will carry what I must, for however long this chapter asks of me to… but I will no longer carry the guilt for wanting something more true.

Thank you for what you have taught me.
But I release you now.

With love,
Starla