I’ll Take My Peace, Hold the Apologies…

I saw the daily prompt today:
“What could you let go of, for the sake of harmony?”

And to be honest, I didn’t have a tidy, social-media-ready answer.
I’ve walked away from houses. From material things. From relationships that drained the life out of me. I’ve left behind the things most people spend their whole lives clinging to because I learned early that none of it brings peace if your soul’s still in chains.

But here’s the thing nobody tells you:

Sometimes, the hardest things to let go of aren’t the things you can pack in a box or sign away. It’s the invisible stuff.

The need to be understood.
The ache for old wounds to be acknowledged.
The hope that people who hurt you might wake up one day and finally see what they did.

And maybe, just maybe, it’s the expectation that any of that would ever bring the kind of peace you could give yourself if you just laid it down.

I don’t want harmony if it means silencing my truth to keep someone else comfortable. I don’t want peace if it comes with conditions and quiet resentment. And I sure as hell don’t want forgiveness dressed up as forced amnesia.

So what could I let go of for the sake of harmony?
Maybe the idea that I have to carry what other people refuse to own.
Maybe the weight of hoping for an apology that was never coming.
And maybe, the last thread of obligation to people who cashed out on me a long time ago.

Peace isn’t given. It’s claimed.
And I’ve decided it’s mine. Sass and all.