I closed on the sale of my apartment today. It was the culmination of a vision I created three years ago.
I had eagerly awaited this moment and the feeling of freedom it would bring. To be unencumbered by the obligations of it, debt-free. Home free.
For months I waited patiently, preparing myself. Releasing. Coming into a home in my body.
And today was finally the day.
I said goodbye. I closed out the chapter by turning it over lovingly to the new buyers.
I walked out of the closing with checks in hand, and went to the Bank to deposit them.
And then I paused to feel the freedom.
But it’s not there.
No lightness to my step. No sense of having a weight off of my shoulders.
I feel heaviness. A hole in my heart. I feel like someone is sitting on my chest, preventing me from breathing. My legs are stiff and heavy.
I feel like I lost a part of myself.
The questions loom large:
What have I done? Have I made a big mistake? Will I ever have something so beautiful again?
There is no freedom. No lightness.
There is only grief and longing and loss and doubt and despair and second-guessing and tears that come at such a furious pace that I am blinded by them and
I. Cannot. Breathe.
All the deep work, the getting into my body. Evaporated. My body wants to break free from this.
Everyone close to me told me about the freedom I would feel. The lightness.
You’ll see. Everything will lift. Like magic.
Nothing is lifting.
I feel crushed under the weight of a heaviness like I’ve never felt before.
For months I’ve been waiting for this moment. And when I shared the news today, the responses poured in.
I’m so proud of you!
Isn’t it the Best. Feeling. Ever.?
No. This is not the best feeling ever.
This is the worst I’ve felt in months.
I feel like I’ve been stabbed in the heart. Like a 50-ton weight was dropped into my chest.
I. CANNOT. BREATHE.
This is my experience.
Grief. Heaviness. Sadness.
I have no choice but to surrender. To the heaving sobs and flow of tears and the unbearable pain that my body feels in this moment.
Wisdom knows: even when you know the loss is coming, nothing prepares you for the waves of grief.
I lost something today. Willingly, for sure. But no less of a loss.
I thought I had released it all, but there is always more. I won’t lie to you or to myself by pretending that I’m floating on air.
Because I know that if I’m to reach the lightness, I must process this emotion first.
This is my experience today. I release the judgment around it and allow it to be.