Things will never be the same again, but do they have to be?

Sometimes we are terribly resistant to change, to ending some relationships or jobs because every cell of the body is afraid of the unknown. And we often associate change with loss, with the ending and detachment from an idea we’ve grown up with, so we don’t allow ourselves to recognize that something new doesn’t necessarily have to be bad.

The end of one chapter always brings me the beginning of new, beautiful stories, so no matter how scary it may be at times, I boldly dive into the contrast and watch it dissolve into a new chapter in life.

And I wonder, why do we stick to the old man so persistently and convulsively if we don’t grow up in that old man? Why do we cling to the definition of a relationship if it causes us pain and stress, while a new definition would bring relief, perhaps a complete reversal?

Why do we even need definitions?

Things will never be the same

As I listen to Roxette, whose hits have been repeating themselves to me lately, I listen to Marie Fredriksson repeat “Things will never be the same” in her melodious voice and catch a moment, that famous loop in my head, and realize that the paradox of losing is in that poems perfectly described. While talking about loss, she suggests the loss of the familiar, the notion of habit that we often characterize as emotion, as love, and then tearing from that pattern presents us with pain.

True, things will never be the same again, but no one said it wouldn’t get any better!

Better for me, better for you, better for anyone who finishes what was obviously not beautiful, happy, and fruitful.

Better. Because the ends serve that. Above all, they bring relief, like that silence that looms over the street after a snowstorm. The wind blows at the moment, the swirling snowflakes calm down on the ground and bare branches, and moments of peace follow.

Trapped in the middle of a storm, we can’t take a break, we can’t cling to anything, we can’t give ourselves the much-desired relief.

Only change is constant

Ever since I was a child, I have accepted the fact that only change is constant, that people and situations, emotions, and events are just something that changes through our lives, as rainy and sunny days alternate in nature and as the seasons pass. Everything around us is in constant change.

Maybe that’s why it’s easier for me to accept that nothing I am and have is eternal, and that none of mine is there forever. At the end of the story, neither am I.

Therefore, I am grateful for the moments, for the hugs, the emotions, and the experiences. I am grateful that I was able to call some people my own, that I grew up in some hugs, reflected as a child in the eyes of some really great people. Which I loved and was loved for, even though losses and partings followed. Some are permanent because these people are no longer with us, some because we no longer feel good in our definition.

Thanks for the end

I am proud of my ends, I can say that openly. I am proud of the closed chapters and the stories I had the opportunity to tell again, to myself, to myself. I am grateful for situations that pulled me out of my comfort zone, out of relationships I longed for, out of jobs where I felt stuck and unable to express myself creatively, out of collaborations that became stagnant and tended to outgrow into the quicksand so pull everyone involved to the bottom.

I am proud of what I have become as a person and as a woman thanks to the ends I have survived. From which I sprang.

I would never have been so strong, collected, and consistent if it hadn’t broken me and not underlined the lines. I would never have become so creative, open, energetic, and brave if everything had gone smoothly for me if I had gotten everything on a plate if I hadn’t been disappointed or burned in anything.

I wouldn’t be such a good writer if I hadn’t experienced the love shipwrecks that forced me to write thousands and thousands of lines and so hone my style and expression. I wouldn’t be a successful entrepreneur if I didn’t do the hard and thankless jobs that motivated me to become my own boss. I wouldn’t be where I am if I didn’t go through those experiences, embrace the contrast, grow out of it, and end stories that weren’t good enough for me anymore.

I wouldn’t be who I am if it weren’t for all my ends. And all my, new beginnings.

All my fears

And I was scared, at times I was scared to death.

I was afraid of parting.

I was afraid of poverty.

I was afraid of failure.

I was afraid of the condemnation of the environment.

I was afraid of myself and my ambitions.

I was afraid of pain, fear, and fractures.

I was scared, but I went through it all, bravely. Sometimes resolutely, my head held high, sometimes my eyes clenched, my fingers clenched as my own fingernails cut into my flesh and my chest glowed with anxiety or anger… even when I was aware that my life was in danger and that I might not wake up again.

I was afraid, but I faced that fear because I knew that something old was dying, something that I was no longer, something that kept me trapped and restrained, something that broke and hurt me, and something that no longer smells beautiful, new, and exciting, as new beginnings smell.

What if?

So I know, we are all afraid of losing, because we consider everything we break to be a loss, but what if interruptions, whatever they are, are actually an opportunity for us all to grow, become better, happier, more fulfilled, to achieve?

What if, the current end that you try so hard to avoid, the best thing that will happen to you in life?

What if he is followed by a meeting with the right person?

What if, after it comes an opportunity for a better job, for the right collaboration, for the relocation you’ve wanted for so long, or for new, sincere friends?

What if, that end is exactly what Heaven sends in response to all your prayers?

Just ask yourself “what if” and let yourself change your life. I did, and she took me to extraordinary places, to the warm embraces of wonderful friends, to new adventures, to the realization of dreams and success, to the definition of me as I always wanted to be – happy.

Because only that definition counts.