The Art Of Leaving: A quiet kind of love

In hurt, we find comfort.

Over the years, I realized this feeling of comfort often comes from low self-esteem. And so, questions emerged: Why do we keep giving more to others than to ourselves? What kind of void are they filling that we can’t fill on our own?

As far as I can remember, I’ve always had to detach from people. I learned it as a child when my brothers and sisters were taken to foster families overnight, when my parents left me on the porch of my great-grandparents without a word, when I had to face the death of those amazing people who raised me at a very late age. And it went on and on.

Learning that, as a grown-up, is tough. But with time, I discovered it was a hidden gift wrapped for decades in sorrow and pain, now ready to open and reveal the gem.

Detachment for fulfillment.

It didn’t protect me from repeating the pattern of trying to heal my childhood wounds through relationships of all kinds. But it gave me the strength to face and process those hard truths. And the power to leave when something no longer aligns. In fact, in the past four months, I went through two long-term breakups, moved back after three years abroad, had been to four different countries… It was a lot. It was messy, scary. I broke down but knew it was a call for something better. I did it all because of my inner compass and I trusted it.

Once the storm passes, comes the review time. Usually, you feel proud of yourself for being able to take care of your own sanity. And then, new feelings rise. In my case, I realize I carry much more love than I thought. I’ve learned to forgive, to keep moving without the fear of being trapped on the wrong path.

This gave me the strength to be vulnerable.

Because once you get that idea, nothing shakes you anymore. You know you’ll rise again. That’s resilience. And it’s a beautiful word, simply because it means you’re grounded.

I had the chance to be partially raised by very old people. They showed me how to enjoy the little things, to take time, to be surrounded by good intentions.

As I see people struggling to be honest with themselves, their partners, friends and families — I can see my luck. It takes time. Sometimes we need months or years of silence to be able to express calmly what we feel. It’s OK. The people who love respect time and space.

We are organic, constantly evolving. And that comes with the acceptance that the only person who’ll always be around is ourselves. That’s the one we should give extra care to. People, places — they come and go. At our core, we’re nomads. Motion is constantly happening, just like seconds passing. By building small habits, we thrive. Listening to our gut, to our instincts, that’s how we know who we are. And that’s how we learn to let go.

The art of detachment is the art of self-love.

So finally, why are we afraid of our own strength?

Fall to rise. Fall to learn. Fall to unlock what’s already within and explore the freedom of being.