Formal Letter of Resignation

To: The version of me who made self-sabotage an identity,

RE: My immediate and permanent resignation from being my own worst enemy.

To Whom it May Concern,

It is with deep clarity—and deeper compassion—that I write this.

I’m walking away.

Not because I’ve failed.

But because I finally understand: I was never meant to play both the villain and the heroine in my own story.

I don’t remember applying for this role.

I just… drifted into it.

One overthought thought at a time.

One silent punishment at a time.

One swallowed truth at a time.

I kept showing up to the war inside my mind, calling it “growth,” calling it “being realistic,” calling it “preparation.”

But really?

It was just fear wearing my name tag.

——————

“A soul is withered by a life endured.” -Annie Edwards

That’s what I’ve been doing, isn’t it?

Enduring.

Not living. Not feeling. Just… holding my breath through everything I thought I had to prove.

I thought I was being resilient. But really, I was just surviving a life that I wasn’t even letting myself fully live.

I’m tired of living like I’m always in trouble. Like every joy must be justified. Like self-compassion is something I have to earn.

So here’s my declaration:

I resign.

“Wander with aimless intent.” -Annie Edwards

I used to fear this kind of softness.

I thought aimless meant lost.

But maybe wandering without a rigid plan is the exact rebellion I need.

Maybe letting myself explore—messy, uncertain, unsure—isn’t weakness. Maybe it’s trust.

From now on, I will wander. I will daydream. I will waste time and call it wonder.

“You can remember where you came from without choosing to stay there.”

I know why I stayed in pain—it felt familiar.

I called it loyalty to my story.

But I know now: I can honor my scars without re-opening the wounds every time I look back.

My past is part of me.

But it does not own me.

I refuse to live in yesterday’s shadows when I have today’s sunlight in reach.

“If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, why are we so often our own worst enemy?” -Annie Edwards

I’ve been crueler to myself than any stranger ever could be.

I’ve stood in front of the mirror, not to see myself—but to search for flaws.

I’ve apologized for my softness, my hunger, my light.

But I refuse to keep being the critic in my own home.

I deserve to be seen without being dissected.

“Don’t allow your passion to become your punisher.” -Annie Edwards

I turned every goal into a test.

If I didn’t succeed fast enough, I wasn’t enough.

If I didn’t get it perfect, I must be falling behind.

But I’m done letting pressure wear passion’s mask.

I want to love what I do without chaining myself to it.

“The grass isn’t greener on the other side. It is merely another shade.” -Annie Edwards

I’ve spent so long comparing timelines, bodies, voices, stories.

But beauty isn’t standardized.

And worth isn’t a competition.

I will tend to my own garden. I will water my roots. I will trust that I bloom on my own terms.

“Growth is a beautiful process. Trust and embrace it like your life depends on it. It does.”

I’ve mistaken stillness for failure.

I’ve mistaken discomfort for doom.

But this—this aching stretch—is not the end. It’s the becoming.

Growth doesn’t have to be pretty. It just has to be real.

And I’m here for all of it now.

“When she learned to glow in her own darkness, she became the glimmer of hope she’d been searching for.” -Annie Edwards

There is no rescue coming.

There’s no finish line where I’ll finally be worthy.

But in the shadows where I once hid, I’m learning to light my own damn candle.

I am the hope. I am the proof. And that is beautiful.

“Life really is a beautiful thing. But it isn’t always pretty.” -Annie Edwards

I used to think beauty meant flawless. That it needed to sparkle, to perform, to fit inside a frame.

But life isn’t always easy to look at—grief, growth, loneliness, fear…

Still, it’s beautiful.

Not in spite of its messiness, but because of it.

And I’m done trying to blur the edges.

So this is it.

My resignation from self-hate.

From guilt as a motivator.

From constantly bracing for pain just because it’s familiar.

I release the role of enemy.

I’m not stepping away from myself.

I’m stepping toward myself—finally.

⸻

From now on…

I will hold my own hand.

I will give myself the benefit of the doubt.

I will rest without guilt.

I will dance in my softness.

I will celebrate even when there’s no audience.

I will speak kindly to the girl inside me who’s always just wanted to be safe.

———————

I resign from anything that makes me forget I’m already enough.

Because,

Through it all I have survived. There must be a reason I’m still alive. Now it’s time for me to thrive. -Annie Edwards

Sincerely,

Me

(who is no longer at war with herself)