We live in a world where we are encouraged to stick it out, to bear with it with the hope that we will eventually will reach the light at the end of the tunnel. We stay in the jobs that we don’t like because there will be a promotion at the end. We stay in the relationships that hurt because a person might change. We stay in places that we don’t love because we just need to get used to. And sometimes it’s true but how long should you stay? When enough is enough? And, most importantly, how do you leave? These are the questions that I have been struggling with for a while.
Walking away after you tried enough
I am perfectionsit at the heart, and leaving unfinished business is not in my nature. I would rather stick it out and often pour my heart into a thing with the hope that it will get better than just leave it behind broken. Even if doesn’t make sense. For some reason, I believe that walking away is a weakness, a lack of character. So, I will stay much longer than I should. I will try to preservere even if it hurts me. So, how do you know you’ve reached the limit? That there is no point to go further? For me, it’s when there is more pain and sadness and pain than joy. My joy is more important than the constant struggle.
There is a moment in the relationship – be that with a job, a place, a person – where all the lessons were learnt, there is no more joy of discovery and only a never ending sameness at the best and frustration, devastation at the worst. It stops being an exchange and ends up being a one-way street. For me, that is the sign that I need to think if I want to stay or rather how can I leave. It would be a grown-up thing to have a conversation of where this is going. When I am not a chicken, I try to do that, but it’s not possible sometimes. There are a million reasons for that – the other party is not ready for that, it’s too dangerous, it hurts too much. The end result is the same – there is no path forward. So, you need to leave.
It is often easier to say than do. It takes time, and it can take tears, pain, anger, or anxiety. In a true chicken fashion, there are times when I left without saying goodbye because I couldn’t face my need to explain why, and I simply chose to back away. I know I should have said something, but I still need to do a bit more growing up. And there were very few times when I made a decision, spoke about it, and left without turning back. And, sadly, there are relationships that I know I should leave, but I am so emeshed with them that I can’t image my world without them. Even if all they do is cause pain. So, what do you do then? How do you walk away? Only God knows.
Choosing to stay instead of walking away
At the same time, I am also a ball of anxiety, which means that any new thing terrifies me. So, I leave even before I started. Without even trying, I often decide that it’s not for me, that it is too terrifying, that I can’t do it. And I leave the idea behind. It wouldn’t be such a bad thing if I knew I could trust my body and my reactions, if my mind knew what is better for me. But it doesn’t. I was broken one too many times and now it tries to protect me from every new experience, because it is a possible danger. I leave when I should stay.
I would love to say that you can train your body and mind and that it is easy. But it’s not. Just like I stayed one too many times where I wasn’t supposed to be, I left one too many times where I should have stayed. I missed an opportunity here and there, I missed out on joy and happiness once or twice. I missed the knowing and exploration if a place, a person, an activity was for me. All of it is because of fear.
Battling your fear
I think walking away (or choosing to stay) is one of the hardest things to do. Because often it is a permanent decision. And there is nothing scarier than the unknown. Unknown of what is coming next and a million possibilities of life. Walking away means battling your fears and doing it no matter what. Maybe it’s not surprising that it is difficult sometimes or oftentimes. But fear will pass, and you won’t remember it soon after. The fear can be paralyzing, but at the same time, it is a little bit irrelevant. It will pass, but they joy that comes after will stay. Maybe it is a question if you are ready to choose joy, even if journey to it is uncomfortable. Some of the answers and decisions associated with that might become a tad easier.
Choose joy instead of fear. Stay where you can find some and leave when there are none. You don’t need to give any explanations. You can simply make a choice. And that is mostly a reminder for me than for anyone else. But if you find it a useful reminder, cheers!
