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Holding On

It isn’t always about letting go. When did letting go become synonymous with healing or forgiving or moving on? Why must we let go? Instead, I hold on, though not to the detriment of my moving forward. I have learned to live with all the bad shit because it never goes away completely, nor does it prevent me from living, loving, laughing and feeling unencumbered joy. These are my wounds, and my scars, and I will hold on to them to remind myself that I survived.

I’m not speaking of grudges or anger. I have been hurt by people I’ve trusted and loved on more than one occasion. It isn’t about holding on to negative feelings. It’s about holding on to the love that was once there. It’s about recognizing my own culpability and learning to forgive.

I have taken a punch in the face by someone twice my size. That’s not something I can ever let go of completely. But I survived it, and I can look at that tiny scar on my upper lip and know that the trauma that I have endured in my life, either in that situation or other, more difficult situations, will never get the best of me. The best of me came out on the other side.

This is my story. This is for me. If letting go is something that you espouse to and that works for you, then do it. I would never presume to tell anyone what they should or shouldn’t do because everyone has their own story and we all have to find out what works for each of us individually, but as a girl who has had her fair share of pain, heartbreak and moments that make me cringe because I’ve said or done something stupid that I can’t take back…well, it’s all still there. It is all still a part of me and my story. So I will hold on to it. I will put it in a box and put it on a high shelf. I will let it sit undisturbed and let it collect dust, but I won’t let go of it. It belongs to me. It’s what has brought me to this point. It’s what has made me who I am; a creature who loves hard, falls hard and then picks herself back up again.

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