Releasing What No Longer Serves: A Season of Letting Go
A Season of Self Reflection
Eight days. Eight days without the familiar comfort of cigarettes. Eight days of sitting with the discomfort, the cravings, the memories of what once felt like a small joy in the chaos of life. Smoking and I have been companions for years. It was there in moments of stress, celebration, loneliness, and connection. And yet, I knew—I always knew—that this relationship wasn’t serving me. It was killing me.
Releasing something you love, something you enjoy, but know is harmful, is a complicated act of self-liberation. Addiction isn’t just about desire or willpower. It’s about the intricate ways the brain works—how it responds to stimuli, creates patterns, and clings to familiarity, even when it’s destructive. Addiction is a relationship, one that shapes you, comforts you, and, paradoxically, hurts you.
These past eight days have taught me that letting go isn’t a clean or easy process. It’s messy. It’s filled with grief and questions. I’ve allowed myself to grieve the good times with smoking: the way it punctuated a deep conversation, gave me a moment of pause in a busy day, or served as a ritual when everything else felt uncertain. I’ve let myself remember the romanticized parts of this toxic relationship because pretending it was all bad would be a disservice to the complexity of why I held onto it for so long.
But I’ve also been questioning the future without it. Who am I without this thing that has been a part of my identity for so long? What will I reach for in moments of stress or joy? How do I fill the space it leaves behind? Letting go isn’t just about release; it’s about rebuilding, reimagining, and finding new ways to meet the needs that the old thing once filled.
I’ve been finding ways to replace smoking. I’ve been sipping tea when I would have lit a cigarette, breathing deeply when the cravings hit, and moving my body to release the tension that would have once dissipated in a cloud of smoke. These replacements don’t feel the same. They’re not meant to. But they remind me that I am capable of creating new rituals, new comforts, new patterns. They remind me that I can choose myself over the things that harm me.
And yet, I know this isn’t just about smoking. This is about all the things we hold onto that we know are hurting us. It’s about the relationships, the jobs, the habits, and the stories we tell ourselves. It’s about the way we cling to what’s familiar, even when it’s killing us slowly. It’s about the fear of the unknown, the grief of letting go, and the courage it takes to release what no longer serves us.
Letting go is a process of questioning. It’s asking yourself: What am I holding onto, and why? What need is it fulfilling, and how can I meet that need in a healthier way? Who am I without this thing, this person, this habit?
As I sit here, eight days into this journey, I’m left with one final question for you: Am I talking about smoking, or am I talking about your marriage, your job, your relationship, your habits?
What are you holding onto that you know it’s time to release? What would it feel like to let go, to grieve, to rebuild? What story are you ready to rewrite in this Season of Self?
Reflection Prompts for Your Journey
If you’re sitting with something you’re struggling to release, here are some questions to explore:
What are the things you turn to for comfort, even if they harm you?
How do you grieve the loss of something familiar, even when it’s necessary to let go?
What do you imagine replacing that space with?
What would freedom look like for you without this?
Liberation and New Beginnings
Letting go isn’t linear. There will be setbacks, cravings, and moments of doubt. Some days will feel expansive and freeing; others will feel tender and raw. This is the nature of transformation. It’s not about doing it perfectly—it’s about showing up, day after day, and choosing yourself.
For me, this journey has been a reminder of my own strength and resilience. It’s taught me that I can release the things that harm me while honoring the complexity of why I held onto them in the first place. It’s taught me that grief and growth can coexist, that letting go is both an ending and a beginning.
A Look Ahead
If this reflection resonates with you, keep an eye out for Wednesday's exclusive article for paid subscribers: “The Unwritten Chapters: What Happens After Letting Go.” We’ll dive into the liminal space that follows release—the sacred void where transformation quietly takes root. Together, we’ll explore the power of patience, practical tools for navigating uncertainty, and the lessons nature offers us about growth and renewal. This is the work of embracing the next chapter, even when the page feels blank.
Join me as we move deeper into the Season of Self and uncover the beauty in what’s waiting to unfold.
In solidarity and Liberation,
Educator | Counselor | Community Builder
Founder, Make Shi(f)t Happen
Absolutely bloody brilliant. Thanks for underscoring the bittersweet nature of addictions. Too often people just address the bitter, which ignores why people get stuck in the first place. As usual, your language is flawless.