Goodbyes, Courage, and Finding Myself in the Stillness
This is a personal story about travel, letting go, and discovering that true courage often begins in the stillness.
I read a post recently where it said:
“The saddest goodbyes aren’t marked by anger or indifference. They’re marked by love that still lingers, by a connection you deeply cherish but know you can no longer sustain.”
I never realized how true this is. Sometimes we hold on too long because the space we’re in feels so familiar. And it takes a great amount of courage to let go, to recognize that holding on too tightly may cause more harm than good.
This is how I felt not long ago, after living abroad for three years. I’ve always had an adventurous spirit. I wanted to travel all over the world, meet people from different cultures, and throw myself into all sorts of experiences. I did that for 14 years.
People would always ask, “What part of the world are you in now?” or “When are you coming home so we can catch up?”
Always on the move. Or maybe... always on the run.
But on the run from what? Or should I ask, from who? My hometown? My country? Myself?
Let me go back for a moment. As a child, I was always the quiet one. Not very talkative, often somewhere in the background. As I grew older, this part of me began to bother me. People would say, “Why are you so quiet? You don’t talk much!”
And I have to admit, those words always left an unpleasant feeling in me.
With time, I started to accept this quieter side of myself. But deep down, I wished I could be more like my dad. He’s such a social butterfly, always talking to people, never afraid of looking silly or saying the wrong thing.
Maybe that’s why I loved travelling so much. Every new place gave me a chance to start fresh. No one knew me. I could practice being braver, more open, more like the version of myself I longed to be.
And it worked, in a way. I felt alive, curious, always learning.
But I realized something important: I couldn’t escape the one constant that came with me everywhere. Myself.
The quiet parts. The doubts. The questions. They travelled alongside me.
When I finally made the decision to stop, to leave the life abroad that I had built, it felt like saying goodbye not just to a place, but to a version of me I had clung to for so long. A version that had brought me so much joy. But one I needed to release, so I could grow in a different way.
It was the kind of goodbye that isn’t angry or bitter, but full of love, gratitude, and sadness too.
Photo by Maria Klis, 2025
Someone once told me that one of his dreams was to be more courageous.
At first, I didn’t understand. It didn’t sound like the kind of dream we usually hear about: “I want to travel the world” or “I want a meaningful job.”
But then I saw how deeply true it was. Because to achieve most of our dreams, we have to work on ourselves first.
Being more courageous, that’s a dream I share. For me, it means trying to put myself out there, even when my body and mind want to pull back. And I’ll admit, it’s hard. But even the smallest step feels like a big achievement.
I’m learning to let go too. To let go of what people might think. To stop comparing my journey to anyone else’s.
And I’m learning that sometimes, the bravest thing isn’t to keep moving. It’s to stay.
To sit with yourself.
To listen.
To see what grows in the stillness.
And so, if you too are standing at a crossroads, wondering whether to keep moving or to pause, I hope you give yourself permission to be still for a moment. To listen to your heart. To remember that courage can take many forms. Sometimes it is taking a bold step forward. Sometimes it is staying right where you are and trusting what will bloom.
You do not always need to have it all figured out. Sometimes the greatest courage is found in the quiet, in trusting yourself, and in the gentle act of letting go.
