letting go

Forgiving in Silence

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I forgive people in silence, long before they ask — or deserve it.
I especially forgive those who never ask, and who will never be part of my life again.

I am no saint. I have my own shadows — moments of regret, lack of skill, and choices that reveal my humanity rather than my virtue.

My reason for forgiving is not altruism, nor does it come from some exceptional empathy for the imperfections of others. I forgive because I do not like the weight of not forgiving. I do not like how it occupies my mind, or tightens the space between my breasts. It is a heavy way to breathe, day after day.

So I forgive quietly, and I move on. I let experiences transform into insight, into learning. I allow my heart to navigate the process, and I can almost feel my thoughts forming new synapses as I do.

It is not painless. Forgiveness often requires meeting grief, fear, insecurity, and loss — without rushing past them.

But on the other side of that work is something I value deeply: the ability to live lightly, and in the light of growth.

I have learned that committing to how I want to experience life — rather than reacting to how life happens — is the most satisfying way for me to live.

I hope, with my whole heart, that I will always return to this place.

~ Evgenia Pimżin

When Giving Becomes Madness

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Do not fight for people who do not choose you —
whether family or friend.
Do not keep trying harder and harder,
hoping they will see your worth,
your big heart,
your beautiful soul.

Do not grieve the loss you never actually had.
Do not sit with the endless “why?”, “why?”, “why?”,
questioning your worth,
your soul, their heart.

Who watches another give, give, give
and accepts the take, take, take,
yet values so little of that person’s time?
Who accepts the handouts, but returns little of value in return?
Who feels offended and insulted
when suddenly the giver stops giving?

You have stepped into the madness of relationships
that inhabit a long pause in the sentence of connection —
a pause paid for by your hands, not theirs.

And now, two choices lie before you —
not tomorrow, not next week, but now.

Continue what you are doing,
but do not complain, do not grieve, do not sulk.

Or stop.
Stop the madness and choose to finally have your own back —
with love,
with self-respect,
and with the clear intention of building your future
on your own terms.

But you cannot have it both ways.
They have shown you that already.

~ Evgenia Pimżin

Grieve instead of Hate

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Dear Child,

as grown as you are, remember –

It is not wrong to hate. It is human.
You were pained, betrayed, treated unjustly. The feeling itself is not the sin — it is the signal. It tells you that something sacred was violated. But if you let that hatred take root for too long, it becomes your captor, not your protector.

Those walls you built around your heart may have kept the pain out, but they have also kept you in. You mistake protection for peace, silence for strength, and the weight of your armour for safety. Without realising it, you begin living inside the very cage that hatred built.

Ask yourself gently — who is hurting you now? Who is betraying you now? The wound was theirs to give, but the keeping of it has become yours. The battle ended long ago, yet you still wake as if the war never stopped.

Grieve instead of hate. Let the sorrow move through you until it softens. It was never hatred that filled your heart – only the feelings you locked away. Set them free, and keep only the wisdom.

Life is not a battleground, my dear one. It is a classroom for the soul, where even the hardest lessons eventually reveal themselves as disguised forms of grace.

Step out of the cage. The sky still remembers how to hold you.
And when you rise, you will remember how to be free.

All my love,
~ Evgenia Pimżin

When My Guard Finally Rested

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Hate used to visit my heart, but at some point, I realized it was not meant to live there.

It came came as my defender when I was hurt – when betrayal cut too deep, when I felt unseen in my pain. Butor a time, hate felt powerful and purposeful. But what began as armour soon hardened into eternal rage and isolation.

One day I woke up and realized I didn’t need to fight.

There was no war, even if my body hadn’t realised it yet.

Those who wronged me had faded into their own stories, but my heart still kept guard at a door no one was trying to enter.

It was time to let that guard rest.
And allow the tears to come instead of the rage.
Grieve the dream that died, the love that never came, the apology that never arrived.
Letting grief in, did hurt, – yes – but it flowed finally through me when I allowed it.

Hatred on the other hand had stayed far too long, like an unwanted guest, until I showed it the door.

Forgiveness I learned is not forgetting.

I will never forget.

Forgiveness was uncoupling myself from the weight that no longer belonged to my present.

So, I learned boundaries instead.

I learned self-respect.

Self-honour.

Self-integrity.

I learned to surround myself with people who built me up.

I let others reveal themselves first.

I let them earn my trust slowly.

Above all, I learned to always have my own back – unapologetically.

I learned to protect my peace, but with an open hand, not a closed fist.

I carried this burden long enough. In hindsight, far too long.
I lay it down purposely and deliberately, everyday,
because there is more ahead of me – a life waiting to be lived – than the life that no longer exists.

And I refuse to waste anymore of my precious time what was never mine to hold.

~ Evgenia Pimżin

Let Go Of Worn Out Memories

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Dear Child,

as adult as you feel, remember:

Come sit by me and

rest in my love.

Know you are not alone.

Your experiences are part of the human journey

that is what makes it tragic,

jaded

and so very predictable.

Those memories – the ones that defined you for so long,

that shaped your choices,

your perceptions of self –

you misinterpreted them.

You accepted the lie instead of the truth.

You are precious. You always were.

You are loved. You always have been.

You are strong. You know it.

You are beautiful. You’ve always shone.

So, as we sit together,

take your beliefs in your hand.

Refine them.

See them through the eyes of insight.

You forgot to weight your memories,

against the health of the other –

their emotional, mental, spiritual state.

Unless you factor that in,

your memories lies.

So, let go of those worn-out memories

with truth and an eagle’s gaze.

Rise above the human noise,

see the lesson, the growth,

the quiet expansion of your being.

I am here – always.

Come, sit by me, dear child,

and let go.

Give yourself permission, to live the life

you have always deserved.

All my love,

~ Evgenia Pimżin

Starting Again From a Clean Slate

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Living long enough to make sense of the twists and turns my life has taken has been a strange privilege –
a balm made of time, ache, and a clarity I did not have in my youth.
Although I did not always feel this way.

It took hindsight and a steadier mind to see that the first twenty years of my life were lived under the banner of my parents.
Like most dependants, I followed their rules, their shadows, their expectations.

But the math from there did not add up.

Somewhere along the line, I realised I could not blame the first twenty years for the next ten, twenty, thirty, forty.
At some point, adulthood stops being an inheritance and becomes a choice.

Stepping into this truth shifted the entire trajectory of my life.
I could take off beliefs, standards, viewpoints, generational wounds –
every vestige of their being –
simply by refusing to wear them anymore.

But I wasted over two decades before I understood this.

We are all powerful beings, far more than we dare to believe when we are tangled in the wrong stories.
We cling to narratives handed to us by family, culture, trauma, duty, guilt, habit –
and we forget that we were not born to carry every burden placed in our arms.

There comes a moment – quiet, startling, unmistakable –
when you see the life you are living
and the life that is calling
are not the same thing.

And you begin again.
Not by erasing the past,
but by refusing to allow it to dictate the future.

Starting again is not an act of rebellion.
It is an act of devotion –
to your soul, your peace, your precious wild and current life.

I am still learning this.
Still unclenching.
Still discovering the parts of myself that were waiting beneath all the noise.

But each time I begin again,
I feel the deep relief of coming home
to the person I was always meant to be.

~ Evgenia Pimżin

On Forgiveness

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Dear Child,

as adult as you are, remember,

Forgiveness does not always feel like freedom.
Nor does it feel just or fair.
Sometimes it roars, “Why should I?”

Because forgiveness means weighing it
against grief, loss, betrayal, neglect, and abuse.
It means letting go of the justice you deserved
and choosing to live on your own terms —
to finally cut the umbilical cord
between you and them.

And as days, weeks, and years pass,
the hollow space around your heart begins to lighten.
You’ll remember that forgiveness was never about excusing them;
it was about unburdening you —
letting you rise again.

It is letting your peace have the final word
they never deserved.

Because it was never about them.

All my love,

~ Evgenia Pimżin