Honestly, Sandie

WILD CARD WEDNESDAY (THIS ONE MIGHT STING)

Something in my life doesn’t fit anymore.

Not loudly. Not in a way that demands attention from everyone around me, but in a quiet, persistent way that won’t let me settle back into what used to feel normal. It’s the kind of feeling that sits with you in the middle of your day and asks a question you can’t unhear.

What are you still doing here?

I’ve been doing everything right. Showing up, being consistent, being reliable, being good at what I do. From the outside, it looks solid. It looks stable. It looks like something you should be grateful for.

And I am.

But I’m also paying attention, because gratitude and misalignment can exist at the same time. And pretending they can’t is how you stay stuck.

There was a version of me that believed if something felt off, the answer was to push harder, to give more, to show up better, to prove I could handle it. That staying no matter what meant I was strong. That endurance was the same thing as growth.

It’s not.

Endurance will keep you in places that growth is trying to move you out of.

And I can see now just how long I stayed in something that no longer fit, not because I didn’t know, but because I had been trained to override that knowing. Stay committed. Stay aligned. Stay excellent, even when it costs you something.

And it did.

There are moments I don’t get back. Family time. Ordinary days that didn’t feel important at the time but matter now that they’re gone.

And the truth is, I carried that without questioning it. Like it was mine. Like it was required. Like if I put it down, everything would fall apart.

But it didn’t.

And now I can see it for what it was.

I’ve been dragging things that were never mine to carry.

And I’m done.

Because something in me stopped agreeing. Not dramatically, not all at once, but enough that I couldn’t pretend anymore.

I didn’t just outgrow it… I stayed in it too long.

And now I’m here. Not confused, not lost, just unwilling to keep negotiating with something that no longer fits.

Because the shift I feel isn’t fear. It’s clarity. And clarity has a way of exposing everything you’ve been avoiding. The past. The patterns. The parts of you that learned how to survive instead of live.

For a long time, I thought I had to hold all of that. Fix it. Carry it. Explain it. Make it make sense.

But I don’t.

Some things aren’t meant to be carried forward. They’re meant to be laid down.

And maybe that’s the real work. Not rebuilding everything, not burning everything, but being willing to release what doesn’t belong anymore. Even if it’s been with you for years. Even if it shaped you. Even if part of you still feels tied to it.

Because I don’t want to keep dancing around something that’s been weighing me down.

It’s hard to move forward when you’re still carrying the past on your back.

And I’m not doing that anymore.

I’ve seen enough to know what’s solid, what’s still standing, what’s actually mine underneath all of it, because I’ve lived it.

There was a house near me that caught fire. From the outside, it didn’t look like a total loss, but when they started tearing into it, you could see just how much damage had actually been done. They didn’t bulldoze the whole thing. They didn’t start from scratch. They stripped it back, piece by piece, removing everything that had been burned, everything that couldn’t hold anymore, while leaving what was still strong.

The front still stood. Parts of the foundation still held.

And that’s the part that stayed with me.

Because we assume we have to start over completely when something breaks, but that’s not always true. Sometimes you don’t need a new life. You need to clear out what was damaged.

And trust that something in you is still strong enough to build from.

And that’s where I am.

Not ready to burn it all down just to prove I’m changing, but absolutely ready to see what survives the fire. Because something will. Something already has.

And I’m done sifting through everything else trying to make it fit.

I want the foundation.

Because this isn’t confusion. It’s not chaos. It’s not me falling apart.

This is me letting go of what no longer belongs… so I can finally move.

And for the first time, I’m not holding onto it.

I’m finally ready to let it go.

SONG TITLE: “Shake It Out” — Florence + The Machine

Song references and lyrical themes are used for creative and editorial expression only. I do not claim ownership of any lyrics or music. All rights belong to the original artist. Music continues to inspire the way I think, feel, and write.