What Are You Ready to Let Go Of?
Every June, I seem to release something.
I didn’t notice it until I recently went back through my journals, but this month, this midpoint of the year, has quietly become a portal for letting go. A time for shedding old skins and making space for something deeper, truer.
Two years ago, in June 2023, I left my job. A career I had poured over ten years of my life into. It was a huge leap. One I wasn’t entirely sure I was ready for. But I knew I had to trust myself enough to take it.
Last June, I quit smoking. And if you know me, you know how monumental that was. I had been smoking for over 20 years. It wasn’t my first attempt to quit, but it was the one that stuck. This month marks over a year of being smoke-free, and I don’t say that lightly.
So naturally, I’ve been asking myself:
What am I being called to release this June?
What weight am I still carrying that I need to set down?
What shadows still linger, waiting to be brought into the light?
The answer came quickly. Too quickly, if I’m being honest.
It’s something I’ve wrestled with for years: addiction and sobriety. A cycle I’ve danced with, fought against, surrendered to, and tried to heal from for the better part of a decade.
I got sober for the first time in the spring of 2020, right in the middle of the pandemic. Quarantined. Alone. Stuck inside my house. A time when everything was uncertain and stressful. And somehow, I found the strength to stop.
Looking back, I still ask myself how I managed it. It felt nothing short of miraculous.
But sobriety, for me, hasn’t been a straight path. It’s been spirals and backtracking, deep reflection and quiet rebellion. It’s ancestral. Embedded. Entangled in the stories of both my mother’s and father’s lineages. It’s not something I can easily untangle from. It’s something I’m still learning how to unravel, with love and with truth.
This year, I’m not hiding from it.
I’m naming it.
I’m honoring it.
I’m speaking it into the light.
I’ve shared this struggle with those closest to me. My inner circle knows. We’ve had open conversations, curious questions, tender truths. But I’ve rarely spoken about it publicly. Until now.
Because here’s what I know:
Our shame thrives in silence. Our healing grows in truth.
So, I’m releasing the weight of secrecy.
I’m letting go of the isolation I’ve felt in this.
And I’m stepping forward into a new kind of commitment, one rooted in honesty, community, and the desire to not just reduce, but fully release what no longer serves me.
If you’re in this too, if you’re struggling with something you haven’t quite found the courage to speak aloud, I see you. You’re not alone. Whether your path looks like mine or nothing like it, your healing is valid. Your process is sacred.
I’ve never resonated with AA. Religion, for me, has always been complicated. So my sobriety journey has often felt solitary. But what I’m learning now is that we’re not meant to heal alone.
We heal in community.
In courage.
In truth.
So I’m here. Still walking this path. Still letting go, layer by layer.
And if this post is the hand you needed reaching out, take it.
We’re walking this journey together.
If you’re moving through your own season of letting go, of confronting patterns, naming truths, or simply shedding something that no longer feels aligned, know that you don’t have to do it alone.
Illuminate Circle is a space for women to gather in truth, reflection, and remembrance. A place to be witnessed, supported, and reconnected with your own light.
If your heart is calling for connection, this might be your place.
Learn more about the Circle here.
