Someone once asked...

“How do I let go of the life I imagined?”

Someone answered with kindness...

A man who lost his job unexpectedly once told me the hardest part wasn't the loss of income. It was the loss of the story he'd been telling himself for fifteen years. I asked him what he was still holding onto — the job, or the plot. The plot, he admitted. The order it promised. The proof that his choices had been right all along. Letting go doesn't mean the imagined life was foolish to want. It means admitting that a life, to actually be lived, has to be allowed to look different from the one you drew up in advance.