Hammock Time: “The Real Breakup”

There was a time I thought the bravest thing I’d ever do was walk away from people who didn’t treat me well.

Turns out, that was just the warm-up.

Because the real work—the work that actually changed my life—was walking away from the version of me who allowed it.

She wasn’t broken.

She wasn’t weak.

She was just shaped by experiences that taught her to minimize her needs, apologize for her feelings, and stay quiet to keep the peace.

She called neglect “normal.”

She called loneliness “independence.”

And she believed that receiving morsels of attention was what it meant to be loved.

She made it through a lot.

And I honor her for that.

But somewhere between mile markers and hammock hangs, I realized:

It wasn’t just about cutting ties with people who hurt me.

It was about cutting ties with the part of me that stayed small so they could feel big.

That part of me who didn’t ask for more because she didn’t think she could.

And that version of me?

I had to let her go…

Because since then?

I’ve chosen differently.

I’ve loved differently.

I’ve surrounded myself with people who meet me with presence, not indifference.

With energy, not empty promises.

With space for my voice, not a quiet expectation that I stay silent.

The bravest thing I’ve ever done wasn’t walking away from someone else.

It was turning inward, looking at the woman I used to be, and saying:

“Thank you for surviving. But I’ve got it from here.”

And now?

Now I walk with her wisdom, not her wounds.

One step, one mile, one hammock pause at a time.