letting go

We held tight to the shadows of who we were, 
gripping the edges of old names, 
as if they might still fit— 
the comfort of an identity frayed, 
threads loosening with each step we take forward. 

We whispered those stories, didn’t we? 
Hoping they would echo back as truth, 
like a song stuck in our memory, 
a tune we had outgrown but couldn’t bear to forget. 

But mirrors don’t keep secrets. 
In the quiet reflection, we see ourselves— 
versions shedding skin, 
each layer slipping like a season that’s come and gone. 
What once was, 
now just a ghost of the person we thought we’d be. 

To become who we are, 
we had to let the past unclasp its grip, 
let it fall like leaves surrendering to the wind, 
not with bitterness, but with quiet grace. 
No regret, just the gentle release 
of what no longer serves us. 

And in this shedding, we find space— 
empty but full of promise, 
ready to hold the weight of now, 
not weighed down by the stories behind us. 
Here, in the unknown, we begin again, 
not with who we were, 
but with all that we’ve yet to become.