When the Clarity Hurts, But Heals

June 20, 2025

There wasn’t a single moment when I knew it was time to go — but there was a final one that confirmed what my body, my heart, and my spirit had been trying to tell me for a while.

It came in a conversation that could have offered repair, but instead echoed the exhaustion I’d been carrying quietly. It was framed as feedback, but it felt like erasure — not of my work, but of my worth.

I listened, hoping to find common ground.
Instead, I found a mirror — not of who I am, but of what this space has become.

I saw myself: striving, explaining, justifying, shrinking.

That’s when I realized something with clarity I couldn’t ignore:

This isn’t peace.
And if it’s not peace, it’s not for me anymore.

I’ve poured myself into this role — building, leading, solving, supporting. I’ve shown up with heart and purpose, even in the hardest seasons.

But even water that sustains can wear away rock when it’s forced through the same channel, over and over again.

So I’m releasing.

Not in anger, but in clarity.
Not in defeat, but in freedom.

I’m stepping out of waters that have grown too heavy — and into currents that will carry me toward restoration.

I don’t need to explain anymore.
I don’t need to fight to be seen.
I don’t need to shrink to fit someone else’s version of who I should be.

God has already seen me.
And He is walking with me through this.

I’m not walking away because I gave up.
I’m walking away because I finally believe I don’t have to drown to prove I’m capable of swimming.

There is grief in this choice, yes —
but also space.
And peace.
And something I hadn’t felt in a long time:

Hope.