There are things you wish someone else could tell you, words they could say that might give you the final clarity you want or the direction you’ve been looking for, or the confirmation that the way you chose was good.
But at the literal end of the day, even with wonderful friends and people who love you, there is still just you there, small you with your head upon the pillow, life laying out long behind you with every turn and corner, inviting you forward.
Here is where you face the unavoidable consequence of being a grown up: most of the time, you have to be the one to make the call.
You have to be able, when the lonely moment comes, to be your own actual friend; to tell yourself that you can do the thing even though it’s hard or terrible. You can set the boundary, tell them no, hold the line, walk away, or show all the way up. You have to be the one to choose hope or love or peace or direction.
So you do what you have to do, but you don’t always get company when you do it. It can be a lonely road. And so you’re bone tired and longing for home; you want to let people in without having to catch them up. So what do we do?
Several months ago when Kendra, one of my absolute dearest friends on the planet (who you may know as The Lazy Genius) read my book, she and I talked at length about it. And I said one of my concerns is that people will think it’s just a book primarily about me leaving my church. Of course I do share the story (among others) in the book, but it’s about so much more than that.
And then she said something that brought me the kind of relief that comes when you feel understood.