Not every door closes the same way.
Some are closed for you. A season ends. A role you held for years. A chapter you didn’t choose to close. Those doors ask one thing, and only when you’re ready, to trust, eventually, that the closing made room. Not that it didn’t hurt. Just that it wasn’t the end of the hall.
And some doors you close yourself. On purpose. The boundary you finally hold. The decision you make and don’t unmake. The thing that was quietly costing you the leap. Some of these you close and never reopen, and that isn’t loss, and it isn’t failure. It’s you deciding what you will not carry across.
Choosing which doors to shut is its own kind of courage. Maybe the quietest kind there is.
A quiet question
The door you’re standing near right now, who closed it?
No wrong answer. Just notice which one is true.
What Took Me Years to Understand
One of the hardest things I’ve ever done was close a door without standing there looking back.
For a long time, I thought keeping the door cracked open was kindness. Eventually I realized it was keeping me from fully walking into the life waiting on the other side.
Some doors don’t need to be reopened. They need to be honored for what they taught us, and gently left behind.
Gina