Closing the Chapter on What Drains Me
Estimated Reading Time: 5 minutes
There comes a moment—quiet, almost easy to miss—when something inside us whispers, this no longer feels right.
Not dramatic.
Not loud.
Just a gentle knowing.
And the truth is… it often takes time to even recognize that something is draining us.
Because it doesn’t always look the way we expect it to.
It can feel like tiredness we can’t quite explain.
A heaviness in our body.
A lack of energy for things we once had space for.
And yet, consciously, we may not fully understand what’s happening.
We move through our days… showing up, giving, holding space, being who we’ve always been—
while something deeper within us begins to shift.
1. The Moment Awareness Begins
There is a phase in this journey that feels almost like standing in between two worlds.
You begin to feel different.
More aware.
More sensitive to what aligns… and what doesn’t.
But you may not yet have the clarity to name it.
And so you question yourself.
Is it me? Am I overthinking? Why do I feel this way?
But this is not confusion.
This is awakening.
Your energy is becoming more honest.
Your body is no longer willing to carry what your awareness hasn’t yet fully seen.
And slowly… gently… the truth begins to surface.
2. Recognizing What Drains You
What drains us is not always obvious.
It can be patterns we’ve outgrown.
Roles we’ve been playing for years.
Dynamics that once felt natural… but now feel heavy.
And one of the most profound realizations we can come to is this:
My energy is not something that I owe.
It is something I honour.
Not from ego.
Not from separation.
But from a deep respect for the life force moving through us.
Because when we begin to honour our energy, we begin to notice:
Where we feel expanded…
and where we feel depleted.
Where we feel like ourselves…
and where we slowly disappear.
3. The Edge of Change
And this is often where we arrive…
at the edge of change.
Not because we’ve forced anything—
but because we’ve finally seen.
And yet, even in that clarity, there can be hesitation.
Because change asks something of us.
It asks us to step into the unknown.
To release what is familiar… even if it no longer feels good.
To trust something we cannot yet fully see.
And with that… fear can arise.
Not as a sign that something is wrong—
but as a natural response to leaving behind what we’ve known.
There is a tenderness here.
A part of us that wonders:
What happens if I let this go? Who am I without this? What comes next?
And so we linger sometimes.
Not because we’re stuck—
but because we’re human.
4. Letting Go as Recognition
Letting go is often misunderstood.
We think it means rejecting something.
Turning away.
Closing our hearts.
But what if it’s something else entirely?
Letting go is not a rejection.
It is a recognition.
A recognition that something no longer meets us where we are.
A recognition that we are no longer who we once were within that space.
And perhaps the most tender truth of all:
I can love something—or someone—
and still choose to release it.
Without blame.
Without resentment.
Without needing it to be anything other than what it was.
This is where true compassion lives.
5. Returning to Yourself
Lately, I’ve been giving myself space.
Walking along the ocean…
alone, but not lonely.
Noticing the patterns in the sand when the tide pulls back—
the contrast between dark and light,
the quiet artistry that exists without effort.
Shells scattered along the shore.
Driftwood shaped by time.
Starfish, jellyfish, stones… each one carrying its own story.
There is so much beauty here.
Not because anything is trying to be beautiful—
but because it simply is.
And in allowing myself to slow down enough to truly see it…
to feel it…
something within me opens.
It brings me back to myself.
To a quieter place inside
where I can hear my own inner guidance more clearly.
Where I remember that everything I need… is already within me.
And in that space, a question gently arises:
“What in my life is quietly asking to be released right now?”
Not from pressure.
Not from urgency.
But from presence.
Because this process… this closing of chapters…
is not a one-time moment.
It is an ongoing unfolding.
A deepening.
A soft peeling back of layers.
And the more we allow ourselves to feel—
to truly feel—
the more we come back into connection with what is true for us.
In a world where so many have learned to numb…
to disconnect…
to push through…
There is something profoundly sacred about choosing to feel.
To slow down.
To notice.
To listen.
6. Closing with Grace
Closing a chapter doesn’t always look like a grand decision.
Sometimes it’s quiet.
A shift in how you respond.
A boundary that no longer needs explanation.
A soft but steady choosing of yourself.
Even in the presence of uncertainty.
Even with fear still gently sitting beside you.
It’s no longer abandoning yourself in places you’ve outgrown.
It’s trusting that what you feel is valid… even if you can’t fully explain it yet.
Because clarity doesn’t always come first.
Sometimes, it’s the honouring that comes first—
and the clarity follows.
And in that space…
You begin to feel your energy return.
Your breath deepen.
Your presence expand.
Not because something was taken away—
but because something was finally released.
And what remains… is you.
Clearer. Lighter. More aligned than before.
Meet The Author: June Plahuta
June is a mother to three grown children and grandma to three granddaughters. In her 60’s she transitioned professionally to being a Conscious Aging Coach, with passions for helping people live with greater health, happiness and longevity.
