It takes firmnes to wipe the slate clean.
In many cases, people struggle more with not being able to change than they do changing too often.
However, uprooting is a self-sabotaging behavior that disguises itself as reinvention and change far too easily. It’s a process that continues you always planting, and germinating — but never fairly blossoming.
If you had severed connections when you were growing up — but too panicked the conflict that would come with trying to rectify them — you learned that it is safe to show up, but not to be present. It is safe to arrive, but not settle. It is okay to open up, but not to totally trust. To keep yourself secure, you learned to always remain on the verge of flight.
In your adult life, this created the pattern of initiate brand-new, then picking all there is to it and beginning again.
If you feel that you’re always uprooting your life and starting over, it’s not because you’re on a track of profound rise. It’s because you’re on a track of profound avoidance.
The honest truth is that if we cannot stay and stick with anything, there is a reason.
This happens when we do not have the coping mechanisms to deal with the normal, required, but unpleasant parts of life. These segments are when the newness of something fades into normalcy; when the honeymoon stage of a relationship is over and you’re left to actually navigate your life together; when you can no longer stay disconcerted by “re going to have to” reestablish yourself somewhere brand-new and finally just have to start being who you are.
You are not supposed to build an entire life only to rend the carpeting out from underneath yourself and start over. You are not supposed to be reinventing yourself every season of each year. You are not supposed to only get to a certain point of intimacy and then pull away.
You are not supposed to be constantly talking about your large-hearted moves, your healing passage, your occupation proliferation, your ambitions … and never have anything to show for it.
Though it’s not always easy, staying the course is always worth it. Because when we stay, when we get still when we get grounded, and when we start navigating the harder parts of life, we start reaping the benefits.
We sustain security and stability. We have deep and thriving relationships. We allow our professions and love to fly to brand-new degrees. We tell ourselves see now by our partners and know what it is to be truly desired for who “we il be” , not who we pretend to be.
Eventually, you have to stay in one place long enough for your life to arrange itself out.
Does this mean you should remain stuck somewhere you don’t want to be? Of direction not. But if you always feel stay, if you’re never content, if it’s never good enough, then maybe the problem isn’t the quality of what’s around you, but the strength of what’s within you.