Nina and I were sitting outside a cafe, sharing an ice cream sundae and a bowl of raspberries in cream. We were laughing about toppings and arguing over who got the last raspberry—until suddenly, she got quiet. Her spoon paused mid-air and she looked down for a moment before speaking. “I was with someone I used to think I loved,” she said slowly, “Not really and I didn’t even realize it until I let go.”
She glanced at me, her eyes more steady than sad. “Cutting it made me feel, relieved. That’s what hit me hardest. That relief showed me just how wrong the relationship really was. It wasn’t awful but it wasn’t right either. I kept staying—out of habit, out of fear, out of guilt.”
“Nina,” I said, “sometimes we confuse comfort with connection. We stay because it feels familiar, even when it doesn’t feel like us anymore. That relief you felt? That’s your soul finally breathing again.”
She stirred her sundae a little, not eating, just thinking.
“I kept asking myself if I was giving up too soon. Deep down, I knew I wasn’t choosing joy. I was choosing less pain, not more happiness.”
“That’s the trap,” I said. “We don’t always need something to be ‘bad’ in order to walk away. Sometimes ‘not right’ is enough and choosing to leave isn’t failure—it’s freedom.”
She smiled then, “You know,” she said, “it feels weird to be sitting here with ice cream and talking about breakups. Somehow, it makes sense.”
I grinned.
“Thanks, Bob,” she said. “For making me feel like I’m not broken. Just realigning.”
“You’re not broken,” I said. “You’re brave. Brave enough to make space for the life you really want.”
She laughed—freely this time—and picked up the last raspberry.
To you, dear reader—if you find yourself stuck in something that doesn’t feel like love, like joy, like you—give yourself permission to step back. Not everything that’s comfortable is right. And not everything you let go of is a loss.
Letting go is not giving up. It’s choosing truth.
And the moment you do that, you open the door to a life you love—one joyful spoonful at a time.
