Meraki Healing Center, PLLC

i’ve never been good with goodbyes. there’s nothing “good” in it for me, and i’ve always struggled with the intense pit in my stomach, regardless of the significance or length of time assumed, immediately post-saying goodbye. there are a few that come to mind right now as i write this and the stomach churning that happens almost instantaneously is too real, as if i’m reliving the experiences again. no, i don’t handle goodbyes well. so i’m hoping you can imagine the utter avoidance that i’ve been trying to fight against throughout this whole transition period leading into this impending move – there are lots of goodbyes to say.

i started this post with “it’s not goodbye, it’s see you later”. but that feels like an additional way of trying to avoid the emotions that are involved for me with saying goodbye to this city, to this phase of life, to this job, to these people. i also realized that i’m talking about different kinds of goodbyes in this; there are some that are more final – situations that rob you of the chance for “see you later” – and those are the ones that fuel the pit in my stomach pain that my body and brain don’t seem to know isn’t warranted with every goodbye.

i am nostalgic AF thinking about all the meaningful events that have happened over this last decade+ of life in this city. all the dropped pins of landmarks on my heart, the people whose faces i imagine when i drive by certain places, the different vivid scenes playing out in my mind where the memory of each milestone & mundane event happened. and the sadness creeps in when the weight of this move takes hold. but i was confused at first with the realization that it’s actually the goodbyes that have already happened that seem to be holding the most weight at the moment.

the goodbyes to the relationships that, while they have long been over, have a certain finality to them now; as long as i’m still here, there’s a subconscious window of possibility for reconnecting, an ability to avoid the goodbye because they’re not “gone”. but moving across the country – that signals more of a finality of the goodbye for me, a closing to this chapter that they were a part of. thankfully, there are many people still here who i’m not saying goodbye to – many who i’m saying “see you later” to – but i think the underlying fears that contribute to that pit in my stomach feeling when saying goodbye, even to people who i very much intend to see again and will maintain relationships with, still have strongholds over me; those fears have deeper roots. i’d like to add that this isn’t specific to Boston, and how this happened for me with the last cross-country move, too. and it isn’t even specific to just relationships – i’m also seeing how it applies to other facets of my life. i’m sure this process will continue to happen amidst any transitions.

i guess i needed to write that stream of consciousness to get to this:

i’m realizing it’s actually not about the goodbye itself, at least not completely. it’s the giving up – the releasing and letting go – of the longing. accepting the ending of something inherently means releasing the longing of it having the chance of being different. but in order to do this, you have to accept that this thing no longer has a place in your life, at least not in the way you imagined or hoped or currently need right now. it helps explain why guilt is often a part of this process. you have to acknowledge the role you play in the ending of this thing, and/or come to terms with the fact that you’re not going to get a do-over. to let go of the longing, to release the hope that the needs you wanted to be met back then will be met now, is to also admit the reality that those expectations are not realistic. you have to grieve the experience of that release. in a way it’s empowering, but it’s also threatening if you’re not used to trusting yourself and your ability to tolerate the range of emotions. you take your power back when you let go of the longing, but it also means you gotta be prepared to lean into the discomfort that comes next. you release the expectation that someone else is going to come save you; someone else is going to show up or do it for you. or, that someone else will fully understand. and at the same time, this release grants you the space to open yourself up to the possibility of what is on the other side of this now-closing door. who will you be? what adventures are you inviting that you never would have otherwise known existed? what relationships will you begin, who & what will you gravitate towards, where are the possibilities that are ahead?

maybe goodbye doesn’t have to be riddled with fear. maybe sometimes it’s synonymous with the homecoming your soul is yearning for. maybe it’s an act of saying hello to the parts of you that you are learning how to prioritize, and nurture, and protect, above all else. maybe it’s a way of embracing the inevitable uncertainty that comes with being human, and a way of honoring the pain and simultaneous beauty of the limited time we have here, a way of leaning into whatever you are meant to experience next. xo.