LIFE, LOVE, & LOSS
Everything You Lose Is Not a Loss
Look at yourself — still breathing, still living, still inching forward because everything you have lost isn’t a loss.
Over the past year and a half, I have lost a lot, but not more than I have given up or that has been taken from me. I have ended twenty-year friendships and finally left my partner of five years. After living in Los Angeles for over twenty years, I moved across the country, taking only my car and whatever could fit into a seven-by-seven shipping container. I gave away most of my possessions, left my friends, and all that’s familiar to me. Even before the onset of the pandemic, my life was spiraling out of control. I had long outgrown half of my friends, who really weren’t friends at all. My relationship was in trouble, and I was in the first trimester of a pregnancy that almost killed me. My narcissistic and bi-polar partner made my life a living hell, and each day dragged into the next with no improvement.
Something had to change.
Everything had to change.
Sometimes, if I really love someone, someplace, or some idea of how great a situation could be, I hold onto it longer than I should. I refuse to let go, so I get dragged. But, when I get sick of hurting myself, I walk away and never look back. Over the past eighteen months, I have walked away from more than I thought I could bear, and I’m better for it. I’ve had to make some pretty awful decisions and do some things I didn’t want to do in the present so that I could have a better future. I made sacrifices that hurt me in the moment and did so with the promise to “make it worth it” in the end. And now, I spend every waking moment fulfilling that promise.
Some losses are undeniable, like the death of a loved one. But much of what we think of as losses aren’t losses at all but chances to start anew. I think it’s important to know the difference between a tragedy and a transition and count many of our defeats as wins. But, like most things that stand to improve our lives, changing one’s perspective in this way isn’t always easy.
When we’re young, it feels as if the world will end every time we lose a friend, break up with someone, fail a class, or are denied access to something we really want. It feels as if we’ll never recover because we haven’t yet built our emotional muscle memory at that age. We haven’t hurt and recovered enough times to know we will always recover after every hurt. One of the many beautiful things about getting older is recognizing our resilience and strength and giving ourselves credit for surviving one-hundred percent of our worst days.
During this transitional period, I have relied heavily on what I know to be true. I have survived worse. I have stared death in the mouth and escaped from its grips. Wrought with despair, I have cried until I vomited and hyperventilated until I passed out. I have been anxious and afraid, bruised and bleeding. I have been down on my knees, begging The Lord for forgiveness and strength, grace and fortitude, and He has provided. I have been homeless. I have been hungry. I have been all things but never forsaken and never, ever a quitter.
Something tells me you’re not a quitter either.
To clarify, you should absolutely give up on everything and everyone that no longer serves you or never has. But, don’t you ever give up on yourself. The butterfly does not miss its chrysalis once it's free to fly, and your metamorphosis will be nothing short of spectacular. However, unlike the butterfly, you can change your life and sprout new wings as often as you choose. Just be sure never to count the wings and skin you shed as a loss.
Your relationships with people, places, and ideas will end, and those that do will only make room for new, hopefully, better ones. When it feels as if you couldn’t possibly risk losing someone or something familiar to you, just remember all the other things and people you have lost, given up, or were taken. Then, look at yourself — still breathing, still living, still inching forward because everything you have lost isn’t a loss! Count nothing small, count it all joy, count your blessings, and for Pete’s sake, count the wins that were wrapped in the losses that were never losses, to begin with. And then, go lose something else and do it for the win. Good luck!
