For over 30 years, it’s been me, myself, and I—partners in this strange thing called life.

And to be honest?

It hasn’t always been a loving relationship.

There were times I wanted out.

Not just out of a phase or a pattern, but out of myself entirely.

I wanted to sign the papers.

Walk away.

Start over as someone else.

But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t outrun the one person who always came with me: me.

The many ways I tried to leave myself

I’ve moved countries.

Changed jobs.

Started over again and again.

I told myself,

“If I change the city, the noise will quiet.”

“If I move far enough, this version of me won’t follow.”

But she always did.

I’ve sat in the bathtub—literally—gripping the edges of emotional overwhelm.

Trying to let the water carry away parts of me I didn’t want to hold anymore.

Wishing I could rinse away the anxiety, the shame, the habits I kept repeating.

I tried to self-abandon quietly, methodically.

But the thing about trying to leave yourself is… there’s nowhere to go.

The truth is: wherever you go, there you are

This sentence used to annoy me.

Because it’s too true.

You can switch relationships, therapists, and time zones.

You can reinvent yourself again and again.

But the core stuff?

It stays. Until you sit with it.

You are the one constant in your life.

You are the common thread through every season, city, breakdown, breakthrough, and version of yourself.

And that’s not a tragedy.

It’s an invitation.

You don’t need to escape—you need to stay

The parts of you that you keep trying to change, delete, or fix?

They don’t want to be banished.

They want to be seen.

Understood.

Held with a bit more compassion.

The more I tried to ignore them, the louder they got.

The more I tried to push them away, the more they shaped my life anyway—from behind the scenes.

Eventually, I realized:

I don’t need a better version of myself.

I need a better relationship with myself.

 

A few things that helped me stay

Here’s what I come back to when I want to run:

1️⃣ Sit with yourself

Not to fix. Not to improve.

Just to witness.

Spend 5–10 minutes a day doing nothing.

Sit in stillness.

Close your eyes.

Feel what comes up.

Let it rise. Let it be there.

It’s not about control.

It’s about returning.

2️⃣ Write a letter to yourself

It sounds cheesy. But it works.

👉🏽 Write down what you’re proud of.

👉🏽 What you’re tired of.

👉🏽 What hurts.

👉🏽 What’s working.

👉🏽 What you wish someone else would say to you—say it to yourself instead.

Let your inner dialogue come out of hiding.

It’s easier to understand when it’s on the page.

3️⃣ Laugh at yourself sometimes

This work is deep—but it doesn’t have to be heavy all the time.

Sometimes I have to laugh at how dramatic my inner monologue can be.

How my “everything is falling apart” moment was just low blood sugar.

How my 3 AM spiral wasn’t a spiritual emergency—it was overstimulation and not enough sleep.

Self-awareness with a little humor = healing.

4️⃣ Reflect on how far you’ve come

Don’t forget this.

You’re not who you used to be.

Even if some patterns still circle back, you’re meeting them differently now.

You’re not at the beginning anymore.

You’re in motion.

You’ve survived things you thought would break you.

You’ve learned things that past-you didn’t know how to name.

Let that be worth something.

A reminder, if you feel like running again

You’re not broken for wanting to escape.

You’re not weak for wanting relief.

We all do.

But instead of running—try staying.

Just for a moment.

Ask yourself:

• What if I didn’t try to get rid of this version of me?
• What if I softened toward her instead?
• What if I let this be enough today?

Because this is the person you’re spending the rest of your life with.

And when you stop trying to divorce yourself,

you realize—there’s actually something beautiful already here.

It was just waiting for your attention.

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