I didn’t Leave. I walked toward myself.

A few weeks ago, a friend sent me a voice message.

“Heike, I have wonderful news: It’s not quite official yet, the kids don’t know.
But in a few weeks we’re packing everything up.
The whole family is moving from the mountains to the sea.”

I could hear the excitement in her voice. The anticipation.
And also the thoughts that many of us know when a chapter comes to an end.

What am I leaving behind?
What am I taking with me?
Who have I been?
And who will I become in this new place?

What moved me most:
she wanted to go through this transition consciously.
Not just leave.
Not only look forward.
But take her leave with dignity — of what was.

with suitcases packed

As she spoke, I suddenly found myself thinking of a foggy October day.
The eve of my departure to Latin America. Suitcases. Goodbyes. Fear.
And an enormous longing for a new life.

I was 28 years old then, traveling to a new continent with my ten-month-old son.
A temporary assignment that turned into years.
Years that would shape everything that followed.

Behind me: separation, uncertainty, and many unanswered questions.
Ahead of me: sun, warmth, light, and freedom.

And still – it wasn’t only anticipation.
There was also a quiet sadness. And gratitude.
Even for the home I was leaving, the one that often felt so heavy.

for me, saying goodbye has never meant rejection. 

What has shaped us truly deserves to be honored.
Even when we are moving on.

That last evening, I sat by the fireplace
surrounded by packed suitcases, writing paper, and a box of tissues.
The container had already been shipped.
My son was asleep.
The house had gone quiet.
I wrote farewell letters to my parents and siblings.

And I cried.

Not just for what I was leaving behind.
But also for what could have been.

I grieved my idea of marriage.
The hope that things might have turned out differently.
I grieved that my decision wasn’t understood by everyone.
And perhaps also that I had to go this far to find myself.

The tears fell onto the paper.
And with each one, I became more certain.
I knew my decision was right.

TSadness is not the opposite of clarity.
Often, they walk together.

We are allowed to be sad and still know that what we are doing is right.
We are allowed to say goodbye and look forward to what comes next at the same time.
We are allowed to move on with one eye laughing and one eye crying.

The next morning, my mother held me at the front door.
My father drove me to the airport.
I held my little boy close. The carry-on sat in the stroller.

One last wave. One last look back. Then I turned around.
I took a deep breath.
And left.
With hope. With a slight pull in my stomach.
And with the feeling that there was no going back now.

For a long time, I thought I had run away.
From the smallness. From expectations. From a life that no longer felt like mine.

Today I know:
I didn’t leave something behind. I moved toward something.

Toward freedom.
Toward lightness.
Toward the possibility of being fully myself.

I walked toward myself.

And perhaps that is the real truth of many goodbyes.

Not everything that ends is a failure.
Some things end because something new is calling us.
Because we have grown.
Because we are changing.
Because life is inviting us to take the next step.

When I think back today to the young woman sitting by that fireplace,
I wouldn’t tell her about the adventures that lay ahead.
Not about the countries. Not about the people. Not about the experiences that would shape her.

I would tell her just one thing:

Trust your heart.

Because often, our intuition already knows
what our mind is still trying to understand.
And sometimes a new chapter doesn’t begin in the moment we arrive,
but in the moment we are ready to lovingly let go of what was.

With gratitude for what was.
With openness for what comes.
And with the trust that the next step will lead us closer to ourselves.

Dein Takeaway
What am I leaving behind?
What am I taking with me?

What if the answers to these two questions are already guiding you toward your next chapter?

Perhaps you’re standing at a point where something inside you feels ready to let go.
The Selbsttreue-Check offers an honest first glimpse into what still fits – and what may no longer belong.

And if you’d like to go deeper, my guided retreat Loslassen gently accompanies you through that process,
at your own pace.

(Currently available in German only.)