Flaring Felicity

How do you bury the parts of yourself you wish had never existed?

How do you move on from an old version of yourself—and from painful memories that, for now, seem useful only as fuel to push you forward?

Learning how to let go of the past is not always about forgetting it. Sometimes, it begins with accepting that certain people, experiences, and versions of ourselves can no longer accompany us into the future.

August has been painful for me, both physically and emotionally. I had to endure major surgery while confronting the feeling that I was alone and carrying everything by myself. I was juggling regrets from the past, survival in the present, and uncertainty about the future.

It was a season that forced me to ask: What purpose is there left?

And when life has not unfolded the way you hoped it would by the age of forty, how do you rearrange your priorities and the events ahead of you so you can still reach your desired destination?

I do not have all the answers yet.

Turning Grief Into Growth

As August 2026 comes to a close, I want to turn my grief into joy—and my survival into a reason to celebrate. I want whatever I bury to blossom. I want it to become part of the soil beneath me: a strong foundation from which I can grow, take root, and begin again.

I imagine the physical ritual of burying something that was literally once a part of my body—in the soil.

It belonged to me, but I had to let it go as a preventive measure. It had not completely destroyed me, but keeping it carried the possibility of greater pain. Removing it was not an act of hatred toward my body. It was an act of care for the life I still have ahead of me.

Perhaps this is also true of the people, places, habits, and experiences we need to cut off from our lives.

They were once part of us. They may have held meaning, comfort, or even beauty. They may not have harmed us in every moment. But because of what they could continue to cost us, we have to release them.

We have to bury what can no longer remain.

Letting Go of Painful Memories Without Erasing Them

Burying something does not mean pretending it never existed. It does not mean erasing the love, the lessons, or the person we once were. It means making peace with the truth that it could not stay with us.

Not everything that becomes part of our story is meant to accompany us into the next chapter.

Some experiences must be laid down so they no longer have to be carried. Some versions of ourselves deserve compassion, but they do not need to direct our future. Some memories can remain in the ground—not as open wounds, but as part of the soil from which wisdom grows.

This may be what it means to let go of the past: not to deny what happened, but to change the role it plays in our lives. The past may explain parts of us, but it does not have to determine where we go next.

I do not want to carry the full weight of August 2026 into the months ahead. I want to remember that I survived it, honor what it taught me, and leave its burden behind.

Starting Over at 40

So I am closing this month not with certainty, but with a decision.

I will face the world believing that I will be fine.

I will believe that life can still surprise me with goodness. That forty is not the end of the life I imagined, but the beginning of a life I can now choose more intentionally. That what I lost does not cancel what can still arrive. That being alone in one painful season does not mean I will always have to carry life alone.

Starting over at forty does not mean I have failed to arrive on time. It means I can choose my next steps with a deeper understanding of who I am, what I value, and what I am no longer willing to carry.

And perhaps what I bury today will not disappear after all.

Perhaps it will break down beneath the surface, soften with time, and become nourishment for something new.

Perhaps the ground that holds my grief will also become the ground that holds my roots.

I am still here. I am still growing. And I still have a bright future ahead of me.