Dear Stress,
I’m writing you this letter because I finally understand who you are and what you’ve always been: The architect of my suffering. With this, the toxic love affair between us is ending. Today. Now. Forever. I know this isn’t the first time I’ve tried to leave you. I’ve walked away before, felt the lightness of freedom, tasted what peace might feel like without your weight. But somehow, I always returned to your suffocating embrace. You whispered that you were protection, that you were motivation, that you were keeping me safe and sharp and alive. You said whatever you had to say for me to believe you. And fool that I was, I listened. But I see the truth now: you are a liar.
You’ve tried to smother me in the very moments I sought rest. When I sought relief, you piled your burden higher on my back—worries about tomorrow, regrets about yesterday, a thousand catastrophes that never came to pass. You sought to break me. Maybe you thought if you broke me, I’d never leave. Maybe you just enjoyed the breaking. I don’t know why you do what you do, and I’m no longer interested in finding out. And this isn’t about growing apart, or “different paths” or “changing priorities.” This is about me finally recognizing that you were never right for me. Not in the beginning. Not now. Not ever. You are poison disguised as necessity, violence dressed up as vigilance, slow death masquerading as life.
I see the cancer you are—not just in my cells, but in my spirit. I see the seed of ruin you sow wherever you go: in my relationships, in my sleep, in my joy, in my most vulnerable moments. You assumed ownership of my nervous system, and my very DNA without my permission. Time apart is not enough. Distance is not enough. I need you out—and I need you to stay out. I reject your toxicity disguised as love.I reject your false urgency disguised as importance.I reject your chaos disguised as care.I reject your hold on my present and your claim on my future.
I am closing my heart’s door. I am changing the locks. I am building walls you cannot scale and cultivating peace you cannot penetrate. Far from a trial separation, this is our final breakup, and I mean final. You will not be given “one more chance” as you are not be welcomed back. I will not fall for your disguises—ambition, responsibility, concern—because I know the truth now: beneath every mask, it’s still you, still trying to destroy me. I’m done with you, Stress.
I choose me. I am choosing to heal because I choose life.
Goodbye. Forever.
— Someone Who Finally Chose Themself