Letting Go of What Held Me Back

Letting Go of What Held Me Back

Thanks to Renuka Gavrani, author of The Art of Being Alone, for helping me see where I had unknowingly trapped myself for the past one and a half years.

I liked a guy. That, in itself, isn’t unusual. What was unusual was how much I built around that liking — based on very little real interaction. But I won’t lie: there were moments, small but clear, where I felt he was also looking for something in me. A glance held too long, a few words exchanged that felt warmer than casual — enough to make me hope. I got to know it — enough to believe it wasn’t all in my head.

After that realization, though, we never met again. Not because we couldn’t — but because we never tried hard enough. Life kept placing us in different cities at different times. When I was in one place, he had already moved. When I moved there, he had left. Our timing was always off — like the universe was keeping us on separate tracks that ran close but never quite met.

I never actively tried to meet him. And somewhere, I started convincing myself I had to “fix” myself first. Not because I lacked anything as a person — I’ve always known I’m independent, kind, and capable — but because I felt I wasn’t at his level. In terms of career, social circle, maybe even confidence. I told myself I needed to work harder, move cities, get a better job, become more deserving.

Looking back, I see now: personality-wise, I never even liked him that much. There were times I genuinely questioned what it was that drew me in. Beyond being smart and funny, we didn’t align deeply. It wasn’t real connection. It was curiosity. Attraction. A sense of what if. And I mistook that for something far more meaningful.

All those months, I wasn’t living fully for myself. I had quietly given someone — who had no idea what was going on inside me — the power to influence my emotions, my growth, even my direction in life. I wasn’t being true to me. I created an image of him, placed it at the finish line, and ran toward it — not realizing he wasn’t even standing there.

Now, his “level” has changed — just different. And it doesn’t matter. What matters is: I no longer need to change my direction because of where someone else is headed. I thought of my future — the one I’ve always dreamed of — and this time, I saw me in it. Just me. There was a time I imagined reaching that version of success with him by my side — like he was part of the destination. But now, when I close my eyes and picture what I truly want to achieve, he’s not there. Not because of bitterness — but because I’ve outgrown the need to tie my growth to someone else’s presence. Thanks to him for inspiration.

For the past year, I haven’t been imagining love or partnership — I’ve just been trying to become her — the version of me I’ve always admired. And that felt okay. Actually, that felt right. There’s a quiet kind of strength in chasing your own vision, free from expectation or attachment.

I finally understood: if you're working toward something, let it be for yourself, not tied to anything or anyone. When we chase dreams shaped by someone else, they lose their meaning. Their soul. Their essence.

No, I haven’t reached my dream yet. But I’m walking toward it now — on my own terms, for the first time in a long time.

And that feels like freedom.

I’ve always had clarity about who I am and where I want to go. But this time, I lost sight of it — maybe because I was too caught up in the outer world. I thought I needed to measure up to something or someone. But all I needed was to return to myself.

And now that I have — I’m not looking back.

And that feels like freedom.