Letting Go

🐥 When Trying Becomes Too Much

There’s a common belief that relationships survive on effort. That if you just try hard enough—call more, forgive more, give more—they’ll get better. But what happens when you’ve tried over and over, only to realize the relationship itself is draining the life out of you?

Sometimes, trying is not enough. And sometimes, trying is actually too much.

The Weight of His Choices

My dad’s life has been marked by choices—his choices. No one forced him down the paths he took. And while life can be unfair, the truth is, much of where he stands today comes from decisions he made long ago.

Pride has always been his closest companion. He never wanted help, or didn't want to admit it, never wanted to admit fault, and never wanted to hear a perspective that wasn’t his own. Pride made him push people away. Pride kept him from reconciling broken relationships. Pride stopped him from reaching out before the bottom fell out.

Then came the anger. His words were sharper than any knife, cutting deep with verbal abuse that left scars no one else could see. Those choices—those moments—added bricks to the wall between us.

Now, years later, his choices have caught up to him. He’s homeless. He’s living out of a storage unit. And instead of asking himself how he ended up there, he points outward—blaming God, guilt-tripping, demanding. But the truth is clear: this life is the product of a thousand decisions that he made for himself.

Ending the Cycle of Trying

Earlier this year, I made the decision to end my relationship with my dad. It wasn’t out of spite. It wasn’t because I wanted to punish him. It was because every encounter with him drained me, hurt me, and pulled me backward in my own healing.

Still, when I see where he is now, the guilt whispers: Maybe you should do more. Maybe you’re the only one who can help. So......

The Burden of Responsibility

I decided last week As one of his four children, and because I live closest to where he stays—just five minutes away—that I would offer what I could: a shower, clean clothes, a hot dinner. A small gesture of care, without reopening the door to reconciliation. Because reconciliation is not the same as kindness. Reconciliation requires trust, and there is none left between us.

But almost immediately, he rejected it. My help wasn’t enough. He wanted full access, full forgiveness, full control—on his terms.

And I realized, yet again, that my mental health was more important than walking back into that storm.

But I’ve learned the hard truth:

• You cannot save someone who refuses to save themselves.

• You cannot build a future with someone who lives only in the past.

• You cannot heal someone who would rather wound you than face their own pain.

And maybe most importantly: you cannot set yourself on fire to keep someone else warm.

Forgiveness Without Reconciliation

I want to be clear: I forgive my dad. I forgive the things he has done, the hurt he caused, and the words he used that still echo in my mind. Carrying anger only weighs me down, and I don’t want to live chained to the past.

But forgiveness doesn’t mean reconciliation. Forgiveness is for my peace; reconciliation would put me back in harm’s way. I’ve made peace with the truth that I can let go of resentment without inviting him back into my life.

The Guilt That Lingers

Do I feel good about this? No. There’s no satisfaction in watching a parent spiral into homelessness and despair. A part of me will always wish he could get back on his feet, that he could look in the mirror and take responsibility for his life.

But that’s not my battle to fight. I cannot undo years of pride, anger, and abuse with one act of kindness. I cannot erase the choices that brought him here.

The only thing I can do is protect my own peace.

The Lesson in Letting Go

Here’s what I know now:

• Trying doesn’t guarantee change.

• Sometimes, the more you try, the more you lose yourself.

• Setting boundaries is not cruelty—it’s survival.

• You are not responsible for the weight of someone else’s choices.

• Forgiveness is a gift you give yourself, but reconciliation is a gift you don’t owe to anyone.

It’s okay to walk away, even from family. It’s okay to say, I tried, but this isn’t mine to carry anymore. It’s okay to choose yourself.

✨ Final Peck of WisdomIf you’re in a relationship like this, hear me: you are not heartless for stepping away. You are not weak for setting boundaries. And you are not wrong for putting your mental health first.

Because sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is stop trying. Not because you don’t care, but because you finally realized caring for yourself matters more than sacrificing yourself for someone who will never change.