When Sadness Stays
Ever wondered why something that happened years ago still makes you cry like it happened yesterday?
Not just a quiet ache — but a full body sadness.
Tears that rise without warning.
A tightness in the chest that steals your breath.
A kind of pain that doesn’t ask for attention — it just lives in you, like a wave that never quite reached the shore.
🕯️ Maybe sadness isn’t a signal of brokenness.
Maybe it’s a sign that you’ve been resisting a truth — one that your heart still isn’t ready to hold.
Maybe you’re not grieving the event itself anymore.
Maybe you’re grieving the part of you that’s afraid to accept that it’s really over.
That moment you’re still holding onto…
It ended a long time ago.
But your hands are still clinging to the doorframe — afraid that if you let go, you’ll lose the last piece of something that once meant everything.
If it feels right, you might ask yourself:
💭 What am I afraid will happen if I accept that it’s over?
💭 Why does a part of me still hope, still wait, still linger?
💭 What truth have I known in my mind, but haven’t yet allowed into my heart?
Take a breath.
Feel your chest rise.
Feel your body sit here, now.
This is real. This moment. This breath.
And maybe, just maybe…
That sadness isn’t here to punish you.
It’s here to gently walk you to a truth you haven’t fully met yet.
A truth that might feel like grief — but also, like liberation.
🪞When the time comes — and only when you’re ready — you may finally feel it.
That letting go doesn’t mean forgetting.
That accepting doesn’t mean dismissing what you felt.
It means this:
🌊 You no longer need to hold onto the doorframe to remember the beauty of what was.
🌊 You no longer need to resist the ending to honour the love.
And when grief and liberation arrive hand in hand,
That door… quietly closes behind you.
Not with a slam —
But with a deep exhale.
A knowing.
A soft return.
Let the wave come.
Let it crest, tremble, fall —
And find yourself steadier, clearer, softer on the other side 🕊️