Quitting can be a beautiful thing. Quitting may be the beginning, middle, or the end of something, but not all three at the same time. It is up to you what you would like it to be.

I used to be so ashamed and always worried about what everyone thinks of me, and how they would their attitudes may change about me based on a decision I made, when in reality their opinion means nothing. Zero currency.

So why did I let quitting bother me so much if it almost puts me in a hearse? I used to think there is nothing worse than the “quitting curse.” But I had to realize again it is a beautiful thing; in fact, a victory has grown inside me like a tree and is worth so much more than a diamond ring.

Death helped me to realize: what is a job, a hobby, a club, if I am not happy? A soul gone too soon; unjust in the case of happiness.

Quitting is not a sin, it’s an ignition. The ignition of something so much more in my mind and I have redefined the terminology. I was not happy; I was not filled with glee, so I had to quit for me. For my mental state, no real estate, no physical thing that means nothing in the after life; whether down below or up above I had to fall in love with the idea of quitting.

I quit your expectations.

I quit looking for your appreciation.

I quit trying to live for you.

Because living for me is the most free.

And at least I can say when I’m living for me I will die the most free.

Though easier said than done the thought will never be shunned.

This article is dedicated to Danica Ford. Gone but never forgotten.


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