I'm Learning to Let Go

I’m learning to let go. It’s hard.  Every time I’ve ever walked away from someone or something, left a relationship, lost a loved one, or watched my children leave to find their own way in this world, it takes a piece of me. What I’m learning I grieve most is not often the familiarity or the presence, but the dreams that were dreamed, the hopes that held deep in my heart, and the love that was attached to that person or thing or place.  I think that’s why when it comes to my children – their growing up and moving on is bitter-sweet, because the hope that’s wrapped up with them is still possible, it’s within their independence and journey in life.  But, losing someone to death, disease, divorce or a break-up leaves a huge hole in my soul.

I’m learning to let go.  It’s complicated.  I don’t like giving up on myself or on people I love and care about.  Often though I fall into an unhealthy situation when my hope and love for them begins to effect and become destructive to me. I hate losing. I’m the biggest optimist in the world, even when my mouth is often filled with Doubt.  I struggle, because my heart, my mind, my experience, my common sense will often scream one thing – yet Optimism and Hope will be in war with those thoughts.  I’m sometimes wrong, and someone or something will surprise me and turn out for the better and Hope will celebrate.  But, the realist inside me – the one who carried the pain, the scars, the doubts, and the cautious pessimism – hates to be right because she understands that when she’s right she damages hope and optimism.  She fears she may one day find they no longer have the strength to rise again as they have so many times before.

I’m learning to let go.  It’s devastating. I’ve searched my whole life to be loved and wanted.  But, those are the two things that have escaped me most.  I’m damaged.  I’m broken.  I’m sometimes still that little girl crying out to God trying to understand why I suffer, why I’m hated and hurt so much from the people who are supposed to love me, why my own parents and children have rejected me.  I let them go, but I always held out hope they would someday choose me.  But, even in that – I’m learning to let go.

I can’t make the world love me. I can’t make someone choose me.  I can only hope and try to remain optimistic.  But, eventually – if that choosing never comes and love never appears – I will walk away because I have chosen me, and I have learned to love myself - and no matter how much Hope wills it – I will only endure for a season.  I have learned to walk way. I have now walked many miles alone. I may always be alone.  But Hope and Optimism keep praying, keep smiling, and keeps trying = and I love them for it.  

I am learning let go.  Maybe someday I’ll not have to anymore.

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

Letting Go

Letting go isn’t as easy as it’s made out to be, or as easy as it sounds. Hell, it sounds so simple… you know, just open your hand and let it go. Elsa even understood it so much she sang a song about it. Holding on is hard. Holding on is scary. Holding on takes so much out of you; it breaks you down and pulls at the very center of who you really are. The way ‘letting go’ is made to sound so easy is like saying holding on is a bad thing. But is it, really? Isn’t holding on what makes a relationship work? Isn’t holding on what gets you ‘through’ the tough times in life? Hold on to the promises. Hold on to the hope. Hold on to faith. Hold on to love. Right? How come I feel like I’m the only one that ever ‘holds on’ to anything in my life? I’m sure that probably sounds like such a selfish and self-centered attitude, but I can’t help but feel the lump in my throat when I think about it, and feel the warm tears streak down my cheeks as I think of all those that found it so easy to let go… to let me go.

Yesterday, I was faced with the stark reminder that I’ve once again been left behind, forgotten, that life has moved on without me, that they have ‘let me go’ and are busy with their new life, without me. Yet, feeling the pain of it made it clear that I’m still holding on. The tears that flow this morning are tears from facing the reality that they’ve moved on. I suppose it’s time for me to do the same. It’s time for me to let go of the fairy tale that will never happen, the knight-in-shining armor moment that’s never coming. He’s got his Cinderella and I’m faced with the reality that I was just another faceless dancer at the ball; all dressed up, but didn’t quite possess the right shoes. Obviously, that wasn’t my fairy tale.

So, what do I do now? Let go? That’s easy to say, easy to think, easy to plan, but… what everyone fails to explain is ‘HOW’. How do I turn a part of my heart off? How do I stop dreaming? How do I stop hurting? How do I start to breathe again? I should know how to do this; I’ve done it so many times before. I should be an expert, or know how to write a how-to book on “letting go” and “starting over”. Yet, I know as much now as I knew every time before. I’m lost. I’m just lost. Nothing’s familiar in my life right now. For a few seconds in the mornings I forget I’m in a new town and separated from everything I love. I’m in a new job, and haven’t yet started back writing. I have everything I own and possess stuffed away in some storage unit, waiting to be reclaimed. That’s how my life feels: stored away just waiting to be reclaimed.

I have to let go, I have no choice. Those decisions were made without me. I may have been the one who moved away, but they left me long before that. The tears this morning remind me I’m still holding on, but there’s nothing in my hands except broken pieces of myself. Was it worth it? Is the pain I feel now worth the joy I felt while falling in love? Yes. I loved falling in love. It was scary, but exciting. For just a little while, I was the princess at the ball in the beautiful gown, and it was me with whom he was dancing. I felt the magic. The music moved me. Everything about it was beautiful. He was beautiful. I don’t know how long it’ll be before I dare dress up and attend another ball, but before I do I have to somehow “let go” of this particular fairy tale. Elsa, help me. My friends, please just hold me close and very tight. I love you all very much, and it’ll be your love that helps me find my magic again.

Till next time,



~T.L. Gray

I Don't Give Up

I want to give up every day. I want to give up on life, on love, on happiness, on dreams, on myself, on the humiliation of being beaten now over 30 times in a row at chess by the same person. Every day. But, I can’t. I won’t. I want to, but I won’t. I don’t give up.

I’ve had people tell me all my life they believed in me, but they lied. As I tried to avoid watching everyone I know honoring their fathers and celebrating with their families yesterday, I hid among the aliens on my XBoxOne playing Destiny. Even there, I couldn’t escape facing another temptation to give up.

Casual readers can skip the next few paragraphs, because unless you play Destiny you might not understand the gravity of what I’m about to write. Those who do play, just shake your head and continue on.

Yesterday I woke up determined to have a good day. I’d been a little stressed lately, extremely lonely, and my melancholy had effected my playtime. However, I was buzzing with excitement at 7am ready to conquer the things I’d recently failed, namely the Level 35 Prison of Elders. By this time I have tried to beat Skolas five times and have failed every time. Yet, ALL my friends have fought on to victory, claimed their banners, received their rewards, and sent me their wishes of sympathy. Some tried desperately to help me out, but I still failed to claim the victory. Most of them, now complete with their goals on Destiny moved onto The Elder Scrolls and left me behind - still incomplete, still failing to meet my goals, still battling the desire to give up – every day.

By 9 am, after cooking my son breakfast, doing a few light chores, and making sure I would be comfortable, I jumped onto Destiny ready to win – no matter how long it took. I wasn’t giving up.

By 3:30 pm, after zipping through the first five levels and then facing Skolas again - and again - and again - and again - and again - and again (get the picture), the trio I was with decided to take a little break, get something to eat, and re-energize to continue our fight. We tried strategy after strategy, each time getting closer and closer, yet not quite enough to bring the beast down. We were hopeful we would finish soon, yet determined we’d stick it out, no matter how long it took. We were nearly 6 hours in already, too much was already invested to stop now.

I stayed in airlock (This is the waiting station at Skolas. We couldn’t log off. Logging off would mean we’d have to start all over and go through 5 levels again just to get to the point to battle Skolas), and kept moving around to keep from lagging out, talking with my friend in game chat, and just chillin’ until our third party returned. However, the universe had other plans for me. My friend and I were booted from the fire team and sent to orbit. Thank you Destiny servers – you can kiss my ass! Our third player didn’t return in time, and due to inactivity (he was away from his controller) was kicked to orbit too. Bottom line: we lost our place, our check point.

I was devastated. 6 hours. I’d put in six excruciating hours. My wrists hurt, my fingers were stiff, my shoulders ached from six hours of intense battle. Now my stomach hurt. I mean, it literally hurt like someone punched me really hard. I left the party chat, stepped away from my game, and didn’t even make it to my bed before the tears of frustration began to spill down my face. I’d failed… again… for the 6th time… after 6 hour. I tried to reach out to a friend for encouragement, but got a pithy remark reminding me how fast he completed the challenge, and advised I wait till the new DLC comes out, level up, and then go back to beat Skolas - meaning I was a shit player and couldn’t do it at my current level, which happens to be the highest level in the game. He wouldn’t even play with me to try again. I don’t blame him, who’d want to play with someone who’s tried and failed six time already?

I felt like shit. I felt like giving up. I felt like the weight of the world, the weight of the stress that’d been gnawing at me for days, eating me from the inside out, finally came flooding out. Why had I been stressed? Why had I been so intense? Why did I walk around with this huge knot in my throat? As I lay on my bed and stared at the sunlight beaming down on a branch just outside my window, I let the thoughts I’d been trying to suppress rush to the forefront of my mind. I was alone. I had no father to celebrate, to honor. I had no family that needed me anymore. I had just spent two days with some of my kids – and their presence (which I loved more than I can ever say) reminded me just how lonely and isolated I’d become, and it was of my own making. I’d pushed everyone out of my life, except my kids.

I thought I was going to die. I’d been diagnosed with cancer. But, I didn’t give up fighting, and I beat death, and now I’m forced to face the shattered mess I’d made of my life. I realized I had surrounded myself with people that couldn’t disappoint or hurt me by giving up on me – because that’s what had happened. All the people I pushed out of my life, that I had loved and thought loved me too – had given up on me. They let me walk away, alone. They didn’t fight for me. I fought alone. They just left.

Fuck them! Fuck every single one of them. I don’t need them. Clearly the last few years have proved that. I didn’t give up on me. I might have created a mess, have to start all over in a lot of things, but I didn’t give up. I get up every day and I fight for my life, for my happiness, for my health, for my passions, for my dreams, for my heart. Some days are harder than others, and some days I fall back a few steps, but some days I take off running. I love, even when I know I’m not loved in return.

I wiped my tears, washed my face, grabbed a bottle of water, and jumped on LFG and found me two players. I took control, led the battle, and kicked Skolas’ ass in less than 50 minutes. Don’t ever tell me to give up!

I - don’t - give – up! I also don’t hang onto what’s given up on me.

I will eventually conquer the things that are important in my life, or I will die trying. I will someday find someone who will fight for me as much as I fight for myself. Someday I will call out, “Check Mate, Bitches!”

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

The Beautiful, Wonderful Mess

Every morning, just as my dreams begin to fade and reality takes over, a choice presents itself – a choice on how I’m going to face the day.  Regardless of the dream, whether it was good, bad, erotic, scary, hurtful, funny… no matter – I have a choice of how I’m going to set my pace for the day.

So many mornings over the past couple of years have been met with trembling hands, lumps in my throat, tears running down my cheeks, fear of the unknown, pain of the past, yet mixed with hope for a better day, for a better tomorrow, for love, for joy, for happiness.  Some days are met with those good moments, other days I face more trials and more heartache.  Every day I face me and the woman I was, the woman I choose to be, the woman I want to become.

I wish I could make everything perfect.  I wish I could always make the right choice. I wish I could always find happiness, always pick the right circumstances, and always find the right person.  I’m human and I make mistakes.  I get things wrong… a lot.  Sometimes …sometimes I get it right.

The world is in chaos, yet we’re expected to continue to keep on living, to continue hoping, to survive the pain.  Do you see me?  Do you not know I’m part of this world too?  For those who come into my life, I see you.  I look beyond your body, your words, your masks, and I see you - the beautiful, wonderful mess that you are, because in you - I see me.  I smile at your imperfections and hope you can do the same.

Quit expecting me to be perfect, to have all the answers, to lead you where you need to go.  I will disappoint you and let you down.  Don’t put that burden on me, I can’t carry it, I’m not strong enough.  Just love me as I am, and I’ll do my best to love you just as you are, and maybe together as we struggle to carry ourselves through this life and we won’t have to walk alone.

But if you can’t do that – let me go.

Till next time,
~T.L. Gray

Good Morning, World - 05/05/2014 - Forgiveness

Open Arms

I don’t usually use these inspirational pictures for my own blog, choosing to create an original, but this one really captured what I’ve been feeling for the last few days.

There are so many things I wish I could control, because I think I know what’s best for me.  Even if I don’t know what’s best, I know what I want.  But, knowing what I want and obtaining it is two different things.  My biggest problem is that I want too much.  I’ve been caged for so long inside of a self-imposed prison.  Now that I’m free, I find I’m flying around in circles.  I want to see everything.  I want to touch everything. I want to experience everything.  I want to feel everything.  I want to live fully.  I want to love fully.  As the prompt says, “I choose to open my arms to all the good life has in store for me.”

One of the things about being free I didn’t expect to experience in this stage - is having to let go. You can’t hold onto anything with open arms.  I hate letting go, and it doesn’t matter what it happens to be.  I don’t understand sometimes all the rules of this world, because I’ve just broken free from them.  But, not everyone else has reached the same point as me.  Not everyone is ready to fly.

I have so much love, where once I had none.  It’s overwhelming.  I wish I could open everyone’s heart and pour this into them, but I can’t.  I have to fly.  I’ve waited my whole life for this.  I’ve prayed, dreamed, hoped and fought hard to come to this point.  I can’t allow anyone to keep me grounded, not even me.  I just never knew it was going to hurt so much.  I’ve always imagined someone would fly with me.  Maybe someday there will be, but I can’t carry anyone else.  My wings can only lift me.  No one else can carry me either.

I know many of the people in my life, really almost all of them, don’t understand what’s going on inside me.  From all outward appearances I’ve turned my back on everything and everyone, but that’s not how I see it. I used to run and hide from everything …to protect me. I was broken.  I couldn’t accept and give love, I had none.  But I’m not running and hiding now - I’m flying.  I’ve not abandoned my faith, I’ve embraced it.  It is my faith that has brought me to this point.  It’s another stage, another level of intimacy.  It is God’s love for me that has taught me and allowed me to love myself.    My actions don’t fall under the normal rules and expectations, I’ve never been normal.  I can’t live my life trying to please everyone. 

I open my arms. I can’t breathe because of the pain of leaving everyone and everything behind.  It’s the worst ache I’ve ever felt, and I’ve known a lot of hurt.  I’m so scared my knees tremble and I shake, but I leap into the air anyway.  Please don’t hate me.  Love me. Be happy for me. Forgive me. When you find your own wings, come find me.  If you don’t, love yourself and be happy. 

I stand with my arms open and close my eyes as the first golden rays of the Morning kiss my cheeks and dry my tears.  His lips are warm and gentle.  He whispers to me, and his cool breath drapes over me like morning dew.  His words of love surround me like a whirlwind, moving in, around and about me.  My outstretched arms become a pair of beautiful wings and his love becomes the wind as I rise. I set my face toward the sun and feel the breeze upon my face and the draft beneath me.  I hear the song of the Morning; its melody calls to me; drawing me into its embrace.  I fly. Oh, God, how I fly.  

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray