Thank You

I’ve spent the last few months reflecting, and I wasn’t sure if I’d ever write this. But now, with clarity I didn’t have before, I want to say something that’s been sitting on my chest: thank you. Not for the chaos, the hurt, or the constant tightrope I walked in our relationship—those, I could’ve done without. But thank you for the unexpected gift of finding myself in the aftermath of us.

When we were together, I became so consumed with keeping us afloat that I forgot who I was outside of the effort. It was like I was pouring water into a cup riddled with holes, trying to fix something that could never be full. I wanted to make it work so badly that I twisted myself into someone I didn’t recognize, let alone love.

But now that I’m outside of it, I can see the parts of me I let slip away. The things I loved doing but stopped because they didn’t fit into the version of me you preferred. The boundaries I softened to keep the peace. The dreams I shelved because they felt too big, too intimidating, too much for us. I shrank myself in ways I didn’t fully understand until the relationship was gone.

In the silence that followed our breakup, I found something precious: space. Space to grieve what I thought we could’ve been. Space to unpack all the ways I tried to fix something that wasn’t mine to fix. And most importantly, space to remember myself.

As you can see, I’ve started writing again—something I hadn’t realized I gave up until I picked up the pen and felt my spirit exhale. I’ve been walking more, taking in the world around me instead of rushing through it, constantly on edge about what mood I’d be greeted with. I’ve been saying “no” without guilt and “yes” without hesitation. It’s like I’m finally breathing with both lungs.

I’m not going to pretend that leaving wasn’t hard. There were moments when I missed you, moments when I questioned if I’d made the right decision. But every time I thought about going back, I remembered what it felt like to be in that space—the constant second-guessing, the emotional tightrope, the way I felt like I was fighting to keep a version of love alive that didn’t love me back the same way.

You showed me something important, though: what I never want to feel again. What I’ll never accept again. And for that, I’m grateful.

I used to think that love was about enduring, about bending and breaking if it meant keeping the relationship intact. Now I understand that love, real love, doesn’t require you to lose yourself. And for the first time in a long time, I’m learning to give that love to myself.

So, thank you. Thank you for being the lesson that taught me how to grow. Thank you for the space to remember who I am, to rebuild what I let go of, and to create a life where I am no longer dimming my light for someone else.

I hope you find your own space too, and that it brings you clarity, peace, and the growth you need. This chapter is closed, and while it wasn’t the story I imagined, it’s one I’ll carry forward with gratitude—for the lessons, for the strength, and for the chance to finally become myself.

Sincerely,

The version of me you couldn’t hold, but I can.