A Not So Random Rant: The Shedding Season

Thoughts from 7/10/25

I had a hell of a day today. I woke up. I gave thanks. I stretched my body the best I could—and then almost instantly, a wave of something hit me. I sat there thinking, what the hell has my life become? Where has the time gone, and more importantly… why don’t I feel like I have anything to show for it?

That question has been sitting in my bones all day. Not because I haven’t done anything with my life—but because I’ve done so much and yet still feel like I’m scrambling to gather the scattered pieces and make something cohesive. I feel like I’m on the outside of a puzzle I used to understand, and now, the image keeps shifting every time I get a little closer.

It’s wild. I remember turning 25 and having this intense feeling like I was running out of time. No one ever tells you how heavy that sensation can be. Whenever I’d say it out loud, people would respond with a confused “Running out of time for what?” And the truth? I never really had an answer. I just felt it. Like time was speeding up around me and I hadn’t even caught my breath yet. Still haven’t, if I’m being real.

This post isn’t here to offer solutions. If you came looking for a breakthrough or a perfectly worded affirmation, I’m gonna disappoint you today. This is a vent. A pause. A release. A shedding of sorts. I could’ve written this in a journal and kept it tucked away, but something told me to share it instead. Maybe someone else out there is feeling it too.

Lately, I’ve been noticing shifts in other parts of my life. Small ones. Quiet ones. Ones I didn’t realize were happening until they started to move through me. There's something— someone—I’ve finally started to let go of. A situation that had a grip on me emotionally, spiritually… even energetically. And now that I’m no longer tethered to it, there’s space. Space for clarity. Space for truth. Space for the uncomfortable questions that I’ve avoided for far too long.

The truth is, the more I release, the more I realize how much I’ve been holding on to things that were only meant to teach—not to stay. Now I find myself asking: What else needs to go? What habits? What fears? What narratives have overstayed their welcome? What’s no longer necessary in the version of me that’s slowly emerging?

It’s funny how the things that used to keep us anchored become the very things we start to question. Not because they weren’t real. Not because they didn’t matter. But because maybe… just maybe… they no longer belong in the space we’re growing into. Maybe they served their purpose. Maybe we’ve just outgrown the weight.

I know I’m ranting. I know this probably sounds all over the place. But something tells me that somebody out there gets it. Even if the details are different, the ache is familiar. The questioning. The quiet grief for a life you thought you’d be living by now. The silent panic that maybe it’s too late. The wondering if you’re still allowed to want more.

This—whatever “this” is—isn’t just about me. It applies to so many stories. So many versions of the same emotional reckoning. So many others. And so many others. Catch that.

I just needed to get these words out. That’s all. No fancy bow. No polished message. Just a moment of honesty spilled into the space I created to hold truths like this.

I guess if you’re wondering what the podcast is gonna feel like… this is a taste. Raw. Wandering. Unfiltered. This, my friends, is a not so random rant.

And I think I needed it. Maybe you did too.