The strength is in the letting go.

I lived an hour away from an amusement park growing up. We went every year for my birthday, a gift from my Grandparents. I loved the roller coasters.

“Hold on tight!”, my Dad would say. “Don’t let go!”

And I didn’t let go, I held on. I listened to the advice; sage, as it was, I took it to heart.

Hold on tight, Aubrey. Don’t let go.

I spend my days talking to people about communication. What their words actually convey, intentionally or otherwise. How a small nuance can affect so much. And even how – as my scientific background has taught me – the way we (ourselves) process things we say out loud. To (egregiously) over-simplify, our brains hear what we say and know it to be true. So, basically, watch what you say, because you’ll soon have to fight yourself for things you were even joking about. Or, in some instances, things you repeat because you’ve been told them.

I hold on tight. I don’t let go. It’s a strength, in many areas; I’m insanely loyal. If I meet you, like you, feel kinship with you, I care. If I invest in you – emotional or otherwise – there’s a reason. It’s not selfish; in fact, in some ways, it probably should be more. But, it’s not…you’re someone I care about, and when I make that distinction; well, I’m in. I won’t refute, nor lament, that. I don’t know how else to be, and don’t know that I want that. But.

“Hold on tight! Don’t let go!”

I won’t. But maybe I should. Perhaps, in life as it is at an amusement park, you have to throw your hands in the air. The proverbial caution to the wind, understanding that the risk is worth the reward. And the feeling, that inexplicable feeling of being rebellious and dangerous, is what moves you forward and teaches you to let go.

….

It’s time for me to let go.

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