Standing on the Cliff
You know that feeling when you're standing at the edge of a cliff, heart pounding, wind whispering through your hair? That's exactly where I am right now. Not literally, of course, but in life. That's how everything feels at this moment.
It's funny how familiar this place has become. Every single time I've tried to heal, to grow, to become better, I find myself right back here – at this metaphorical cliff's edge. And let me tell you something, going back? That's always been the easy part. Retreating to what's comfortable, what's known, what's safe – it's like muscle memory.
I can see the path behind me, well-worn and predictable. But ahead? That's where the next chapter of my life begins, somewhere in that vast unknown. And God, does that unknown terrify me. It's like staring into an abyss that holds both your greatest dreams and worst nightmares.
I've been here so many times, battling with the old version of myself. You know, the one who's comfortable with familiar pain, the one who's mastered surviving instead of living. I'm fighting against patterns that have been my companions for so long – toxic relationships, self-doubt, fear of success, fear of happiness even. These things... they're like old friends. Destructive friends, but friends nonetheless.
The hardest part? These patterns, these behaviors – they're all I've ever known. They've been my safety net, my excuse, my identity. Breaking free from them feels like betraying a part of myself, even though I know that part needs to go.
But here's what I've learned about healing: it's not just one big breakthrough moment. It's about going through layers, like peeling an onion. Each layer brings tears, brings pain, brings clarity. Sometimes you have to sit with the discomfort, feel it fully, before you can move past it.
And now, standing here once again, I finally understand something – healing isn't about waiting until you feel ready. It's about taking that leap into the unknown, even when every fiber of your being is screaming to step back. It's about trusting that even if you can't see the landing, it exists.
So here I am, toes curled over the edge, heart racing, palms sweaty. The wind is still whispering, but this time it's not warnings I hear – it's encouragement. Because this time, I know what I have to do. No more standing at the edge. No more letting fear write my story.
It's time to jump.
Not because I'm ready, but because I'm ready to be ready. Because sometimes the bravest thing we can do is simply let go of who we were to become who we're meant to be. The unknown might be scary, but staying stuck is scarier.
So here's to taking that leap, to trusting the journey, to believing that something beautiful awaits on the other side of fear. Because healing? Real healing? It's not about playing it safe at the edge – it's about spreading your wings in the free fall.