As we enter the final stretch of the year, it is almost unbelievable how quickly the year has flown by.
December is suddenly close enough to see, and we begin to ask ourselves questions: what changed, what stayed the same, what found us, what left us, and most importantly, what are we still carrying with us?
September has become a deeply significant month for me. Since losing my dad in September, it has become my own marker of time; almost like the year quietly closes and begins again around this period. Loss does that to you. It teaches you how quickly everything can change, but it can also make you sentimental about almost everything.
People. Places. Old messages. Relationships. Memories of who someone used to be.
Letting go has never come easily to me. I think it comes from how deeply I attach meaning to people, memories and the seasons they represent. Whether it is family, friendship or romance, once someone has mattered deeply, it can be difficult to accept that the relationship has changed.
This year has shown me that letting go can look very different depending on who is involved. I had to accept distance in a family relationship that once meant a lot to me. It hurt, and some days it still does, but I am learning that not every relationship can be preserved simply because it once mattered.
I also had to confront a romantic connection I had held on to for years. Distance allowed me to preserve a version of that person in my mind and seeing them again made me realise that memory and reality were no longer the same thing.
Some friendships have taught me that history can keep us in places we have already outgrown. Love, familiarity and shared memories can make it difficult to admit when a connection no longer feels the way it once did. We remember the closeness, the laughter and what someone meant to us at a particular point in our lives, and sometimes that memory becomes more powerful than the reality of what the relationship has become.
As the saying goes, a tree that refuses to shed its old leaves leaves little room for new growth. I keep coming back to that because it captures the uncomfortable truth of letting go: something can matter deeply and still need to make way for what comes next.
Emotional Baggage Has a Deadline Too
The harder part, at least for me, has always been the guilt that follows.
Choosing peace, creating distance or deciding to let go can hurt the other person, especially when they do not fully understand why.
Distance can easily be misunderstood, especially when one person is ready to let go before the other. And that is part of what makes endings difficult. Sometimes both people are hurting, just in different ways. Still, every ending does not have to become ugly. There is grace in accepting what has changed, giving each other room to adjust and allowing a relationship to end with respect.
The real challenge is accepting that something can matter deeply and still come to an end.
Some conversations have already said all they can. Some apologies may never come, and replaying the past will not change how it ended.
There is peace in reaching a point where you no longer need another explanation, another conversation or another version of the story to move forward.
You can remember a person fondly without returning to the relationship. You can forgive without rebuilding the bridge. You can appreciate what something meant without insisting that it must continue.
Sometimes nobody is evil. Sometimes nobody needs to be dragged. Sometimes life simply moves people in different directions.
And that is where the real letting go begins: when you stop trying to force an old relationship to fit into the life you are living now.
Emotional baggage has a deadline too. At some point, you have to put it down before it puts you down.
Make Room for What Comes Next
This year has been full, and more than anything, it has opened my eyes to what deserves to stay and what needs to be left behind.
Through it all, gratitude remains.
For my family, the senators, shelter, good food and my Heirs Towers gang, colleagues who are probably tired of me by now, but still somehow make room for my own kind of chaos and light, for growth in all its forms, the lessons that came gently and the ones that did not, the people who have stood by me, guardian angels, answered prayers, laughter, work, safety, small joys and the ordinary things that make life feel full.
There is so much to be thankful for when you really stop to look around you and that is what makes letting go easier. When you begin to recognise how much love, friendship, growth and goodness already exists in your life, you realise there is little reason to keep making room for what has expired.
So before the year ends, take inventory.
Who are you carrying because of history? What are you maintaining because guilt makes you afraid to put it down? What are you still making space for that no longer feels right?
And on a lighter note, a few kilograms can also go before December. We are decluttering everything!
There is still time.
Time to make peace with what did not work. Time to stop revisiting doors because you remember how beautiful the room once looked. Time to choose healthier relationships, softer days, stronger boundaries and better habits. Time to make room for new memories and new versions of joy.
Carry the memories that still make you smile, the lessons that helped you grow, the people who still feel like home and gratitude for everything that made the year worth living.
The rest can stay behind.
This is all decluttering really asks of us: knowing what deserves to come with us and having the courage to leave the rest where it belongs.
Some things have served their purpose, taught their lesson and earned their place in the past.
Before the year ends, travel light.
