What Are You Still Holding On To?

Two of my closest friends and I talk about decluttering all the time. We joke about cleaning out closets, donating things we no longer use, and wondering why it's so hard to let certain possessions go.

Then I remembered a yoga class I attended where the instructor shared a story that completely changed the way I think about letting go.

Years ago, her basement flooded. While most people would see it as an unfortunate event, she viewed it differently. She realized she had been holding onto boxes from her old yoga studio and years of belongings from a chapter of life that had already ended. She admitted she wasn't ready to let go, and in many ways, she wasn't ready to move forward. The flood forced her to do what she had been avoiding.

As she told the story, I couldn't help but think about my own life. When my marriage ended, I wasn't just grieving a relationship. I was grieving an identity. The future I had imagined disappeared, and even after the divorce, I found myself holding onto so many things—not just possessions, but memories, expectations, beliefs, and a version of myself that no longer fit.

At the time, I thought I was preserving the past. Looking back, I realize I was postponing my future.

Over the last couple of years, I've slowly been letting go. Sometimes it has looked like donating boxes of things I hadn't touched in years. Other times, it has meant releasing relationships that no longer served me, limiting beliefs that kept me playing small, or expectations about how my life "should" have unfolded.

And something unexpected happened. With every layer I released, I felt lighter. I felt more peaceful. I felt more like myself.

Whether you believe in energy shifts, psychology, or simply the power of intentional change, I've experienced firsthand that creating space changes us. When our homes, calendars, minds, and hearts are filled with things that belong to a previous version of ourselves, there's very little room for the person we are becoming.

I've learned that growth isn't always about adding something new to your life. Sometimes it's about removing what no longer belongs.

For me, that hasn't just meant donating clothes or clearing out closets. It has meant deleting old text conversations I would never read again. Letting go of phone numbers I knew I would never call. Releasing connections that once felt exciting because they offered just enough hope to make letting go feel harder than it should have, but were never truly aligned with the life or relationship I wanted to build.

If I'm honest, keeping those contacts wasn't really about them. It was about the version of me who was still afraid. The woman who wondered if this was the best she could hope for. The woman who believed that almost-love was better than no love at all.

Every time I kept someone's number "just in case," I was keeping a version of myself alive who believed this was as good as it gets.

Every time I held onto something that no longer fit my future, I was quietly telling myself I didn't fully trust that something better was possible.

Letting go became an act of faith. Not faith that another person would appear, but faith in myself. Faith that I no longer needed to settle for relationships, opportunities, or stories that belonged to an older version of me. Because you can't fully step into a new chapter while keeping one foot planted in the last one.

Maybe that's why so many of us stay busy. We fill every moment with work, errands, scrolling, helping everyone else, and checking things off our lists because slowing down means we might have to notice what's asking to be released.

Stillness can feel uncomfortable. But stillness is also where clarity lives. If you've been feeling stuck lately, I want to invite you to pause before asking:

What do I need to do next?

Instead, ask yourself:

• What am I still holding onto?

• What no longer reflects the person I'm becoming?

• What am I afraid will happen if I let it go?

• What could become possible if I finally created space?

The answers may surprise you.

Today, I'm building a coaching practice that feels deeply aligned with who I am. I'm opening my heart to the possibility of love again. I'm saying yes to opportunities that once felt out of reach. None of that happened overnight, and none of it happened because I found the perfect plan.

It happened because I slowly made space. Room for hope. Room for joy. Room for purpose. Room for the next chapter.

Maybe the life you're hoping for isn't waiting for you to become someone else. Maybe it's simply waiting for you to let go of everything that's keeping you from becoming who you've been all along.

If this resonates with you, I'd love to hear your story.

What is one thing—physical, emotional, or even a belief—that you've been ready to let go of?

Feel free to reach out. Sometimes the first step toward a new chapter is simply saying it out loud. If you're in a season of letting go and rediscovering who you are, know that you don't have to navigate it alone. I'd be honored to walk alongside you as you create space for your next chapter.