We all carry parts of ourselves that once protected us, guided us, or kept us safe—but no longer serve who we’re becoming. Letting go can be one of the hardest acts of growth. Some of the most enlightened members of the community share their thoughts on this below.
Cristal Carrington
I’m being called to step into bigger stages — both literally and figuratively. For a long time, I stayed in comfortable spaces, smaller venues, or safe creative choices. Now, I’m leaning into theatrical, high-production shows and claiming a space in genres like house and techno where people might not expect me. It’s risky, but the art feels more alive when you stretch yourself. Read more>>
Kála Jones
The part of me that I’ve had to release is the version that internalized limiting beliefs and insecurities. For a long time, I second-guessed whether I was “enough” — talented enough, consistent enough, or even worthy enough to fully pursue my dreams. That mindset made me play small at times, even when I knew I had the vision and drive to create something bigger. Read more>>
Shannon Smith
The older I get the more I’ve learned that when you leave something behind you have to bury it in an unmarked grave. No headstone! Why? I’m glad you asked: so that you cannot go back and dig up the old version. The main version of myself that I’ve had to release, bury in an unmarked grave is being a people pleaser with no boundaries. Read more>>
Julian Clove
The part of my that had something to prove to everyone, that got bullies for being quite and drawing cartoons in my little corner died long ago. I feel like once you’ve found your purpose, it’s not for you anymore, it’s an act of service, a labor of love. Read more>>
Shanavier “Navi” Clark
The part of me that must be released is the little girl in me—little Navi. She carried exhaustion, hurt, and feelings of being unloved and unworthy. For so long, she was silenced. But she has now found her voice, claimed her strength, embraced her worth, and refuses to back down. Read more>>
Faniah Nabors
A part of me that has served its purpose and now needs to be released is the part that constantly feels the need to play small and over-accommodate others. For a long time, this part of me kept the peace and made me feel safe, but it also kept me from stepping fully into my own power. Read more>>
Shanta Lana Hereford
The part of me that has served its purpose is the hard shell I once carried—the part that felt like I had to always be strong, guarded, and resilient just to survive. That hardness protected me, shaped me, and helped me build what I’ve built. But now, I’m choosing to release it. I no longer need to lead from defense. Read more>>
Morgan Swank
For a long time, that identity anchored me. It gave me direction, ambition, validation. I knew how to climb, how to hustle, how to shape my voice to fit a room. I wore the title like armor: “writer,” “producer,” “Emmy-winner” because it gave me access, credibility, a seat at the table. But somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling like mine. Read more>>
April Carpenter
The part of me that constantly sought validation from others has served its purpose and must now be released. For so long, I shaped my choices around what others expected or needed from me, often at the expense of my own voice and well-being. That part of me helped me survive and stay connected, but it no longer serves who I am becoming. Read more>>
