As I've been packing, I've had time to think. Scary, right?
Twenty-one years is a lot of "stuff" to sort through. Not just physically, but emotionally too.
I'm going through each room, slowly and methodically, choosing what I'm taking with me and what I'm leaving behind.
There are plenty of things I've collected over the years that people in our community can use, so curb alerts have been plentiful.
I'm leaving behind the things I know my STBX feels connected to, along with things I haven't touched in over a year that he can use.
As I move from room to room, from space to space, it reminds me of when I did a deep dive into my healing.
I examined each part of my life, from childhood to betrayal trauma, as if they were puzzle pieces. Picking up each piece, examining it, moving through it, and doing my best to heal and let go.
Not every piece fit neatly back into place when I returned it to the picture of my life. I had to learn to accept that this was where the gray areas lived, a concept that was entirely new to me.
Sometimes, I imagined pounding a fist onto a piece that wouldn't fit. It didn't always work. Eventually, I had to realize that maybe it was okay if my puzzle wasn't perfect, because life isn't perfect.
As I place my cherished belongings into bins and boxes, I realize that I'm doing the same thing with my life. I'm choosing what I want to carry forward and what I'm ready to leave behind.
Maybe my puzzle picture hasn't broken after all.
Maybe it's simply evolved and grown with me.
If you could pick up one puzzle piece of your life and take a closer look at it today, what would it be?
