Lately, I've been reflecting on where I am today, and a sense of quiet discontent has settled within me. It feels like I’m stuck, trapped in a longing for 2019—a time that, in hindsight, felt simpler, brighter, or more aligned with who I thought I was meant to be. But now, as I look around, it’s clear that the people and circumstances around me no longer provide the same energy, the same connection, or the same sense of fulfillment. It’s like I’m in a room filled with echoes of the past, but I’m unable to fully step into the present.
I’ve come to realize that this longing isn’t just about a year or a specific time in my life; it’s about something deeper. It’s a yearning for something more—more meaning, more growth, more connection. It’s the feeling that perhaps I’ve outgrown the spaces I once occupied, or maybe the version of myself that I once held so dearly is no longer enough. And yet, there’s a resistance, a hesitation to let go of what was, as if in doing so, I might lose a part of myself.
But maybe, just maybe, this feeling is part of the process. It’s a sign that something within me is evolving, that I’m being called to step into a new version of myself. The past may have been a time of comfort and familiarity, but the present—however uncomfortable it might feel—is where growth lives. It's easy to get caught in the cycle of nostalgia, to wish for something that can never be replicated. But the truth is, I can never go back, and neither can anyone. The only way forward is through embracing change, even when it feels uncertain or daunting.
It’s okay to grieve what was, to recognize that things have shifted, and that the people or places that once filled my soul no longer have the same magic. But it’s also okay to ask myself, “What’s next? What can I build now, in this moment, with the lessons of the past and the courage to create something new?” Perhaps the key isn’t to fix how I’m feeling or to try to relive something that’s gone, but to transform this longing into something that pushes me toward a future that feels more in tune with who I am becoming.
It’s all part of the journey—allowing space for discomfort, for growth, for reinvention. Sometimes, you have to let go of what no longer serves you to make room for what will. And maybe, just maybe, by letting go, I’ll find a version of happiness that isn’t rooted in the past but in the potential of the present and the future ahead.