Letting Go To Grow: Embracing Necessary Endings

We’ve all been there. Standing at the edge of an ending, feeling like we’ve somehow failed. Maybe it’s a relationship that ran its course, a career path that no longer fits, or a dream that needs to be released. Our first instinct? Beat ourselves up. Tell ourselves we should have tried harder, lasted longer, pushed through. 

But here’s what I’ve learned the hard way: some endings aren’t failures at all. They’re requirements. 

The Tree That Knows What to Let Go 

Think about a fruit tree in autumn. Does it cling desperately to every leaf? Does it hold onto last season’s fruit, rotting on the branch, afraid that letting go means defeat? 

Of course not. 

The tree releases what has served its purpose. It drops the leaves that helped it through summer. It lets go of the fruit that fulfilled its mission. And in that release—in that necessary ending—the tree makes room for something essential: rest, regeneration, and eventually, new growth. 

The tree doesn’t call this failure. It calls this wisdom. 

We’re Taught to Fear Endings 

Somewhere along the way, we got the message that quitting is for losers. That walking away means we’re weak. That endings equal failure, period. But that’s not just wrong—it’s dangerous. Because when we refuse to end things that need to end, we don’t preserve success. We create stagnation. We trap ourselves in situations that drain us, relationships that diminish us, and commitments that no longer align with who we’re becoming. 

We become that tree trying to hold onto dead leaves, wondering why we can’t produce new fruit. 

The Endings That Set You Free 

I’m not talking about giving up when things get hard. I’m talking about those endings that arrive with a quiet knowing in your gut. The ones where you feel that something has run its course, even if you can’t fully explain why. 

These are the necessary endings: 

The job that taught you everything it could teach you. You’re not ungrateful for leaving. You’re ready for the next lesson. 

The friendship that evolved into something one-sided. You’re not being selfish. You’re honoring the truth that people sometimes grow in different directions. 

The version of yourself you’ve outgrown. You’re not betraying who you were. You’re becoming who you’re meant to be. 

The plan that no longer makes sense. You’re not flaky for pivoting. You’re wise enough to admit when the map doesn’t match the territory. 

These endings aren’t failures. They’re course corrections. They’re the pruning that creates space for fruitfulness. 

What Becomes Possible When You Let Go 

Here’s the beautiful, terrifying truth: you cannot receive what’s meant for you with hands that are still clutching what needs to go. 

Think about it. Every new beginning requires the ending of something else. You can’t move into a new home without leaving the old one. You can’t start a new chapter without finishing the last one. You can’t plant spring seeds in soil that’s still choked with dead winter growth. 

When you finally give yourself permission to end what needs ending, you make room for: 

• Clarity you couldn’t access while you were white-knuckling the old situation 

• Energy that was being drained by maintaining what no longer serves you 

• Opportunities that couldn’t reach you because you were unavailable 

• Growth that only happens when we’re stretched beyond our comfortable patterns 

• Peace that comes from living in alignment with truth instead of obligation 

The Courage to Choose Fruitfulness 

It takes more courage to walk away from what’s no longer working than it does to stubbornly stick with it. Anyone can stay. It takes strength to leave with grace. Anyone can ignore the quiet voice inside that says, “this season is over.” It takes wisdom to listen and act. 

Anyone can fear being judged for making an ending. It takes self-trust to do what’s right for you anyway. 

Choosing necessary endings isn’t about being flighty or uncommitted. It’s about being committed to something even more important: your own growth and fruitfulness. 

It’s about understanding that your life has seasons, and each season has its own purpose. Fighting to stay in autumn when winter is calling doesn’t make you dedicated. It makes you stuck. 

Permission to End Well 

If you’re standing at the edge of a necessary ending right now, I want you to hear this: You’re not failing. You’re choosing. 

You’re choosing growth over stagnation. You’re choosing truth over comfort. You’re choosing the possibility of fruit over the certainty of decay. 

And yes, endings are hard. They come with grief, even when they’re right. You can mourn what’s ending while still knowing it needs to end. Both things can be true. 

But on the other side of every necessary ending is space—space for new beginnings, new growth, and the kind of fruitfulness that can only emerge when you’re brave enough to let go. 

So, if something in your life needs to end, maybe the question isn’t “Am I failing?” Maybe the question is: “What am I making room for?” 

Because sometimes the most courageous thing you can do is close a door—firmly, gently, finally—and trust that better things are waiting on the other side of the ending. The tree knows this. Maybe it’s time we did too.