From Hyper-Independence to Interdependence in a Hyper-Independent World
When the Safety Net Is the Very Thing You Need to Let Go Of
I’ve known about interdependence for a long time.
I didn’t just discover it in some soft season of self-love or through a podcast. I’ve tried it. Many times.
I’ve had glimpses of what it’s like to let go — to soften, to trust, to finally believe that maybe this time, it’s safe to breathe.
And every time I started to relax, life reminded me why I don’t.
Rape.
Family betrayal.
Workplace bullying.
A flooded home.
Financial crisis.
Failed relationships.
Moments that didn’t just knock the wind out of me — they shattered something. Moments that changed how I saw the world and how I saw myself.
Each time, I eventually found my way back. I always do.
But each time, it takes longer.
Each time, I break a little deeper.
Each time, I’m more surprised — I was finally enjoying life… how did this happen again?
So I Learned: I Am My Only Safety Net
And for a while, that truth worked.
I became the dependable one. The responsible one. The woman who always had an emergency fund, a backup plan, a strong work ethic, a suit of emotional armour.
Work became my fallback.
Money became my safety.
Competence became my comfort.
And I’ll be honest — it got me through some of the hardest times of my life.
But here’s the problem:
What happens when the very thing that kept you safe… is now the thing you want to let go of?
What do you do when your job — your career, your armour, your structure — no longer fits who you’re becoming?
I Don’t Want to Live in Survival Anymore — But I’m Scared of What’s Next
This is where I am now.
Staring down the life I built to protect myself — and realising that it’s also the life that’s keeping me from moving forward.
I don’t want to be the woman who holds it all together just because no one else will.
I don’t want to cling to work or money or plans just because the world has let me down before.
But letting go of the only thing that’s ever reliably caught me?
That’s terrifying.
Right now, I’m standing in that in-between space:
I don’t want to keep living in fear.
But I also don’t know if I can fully trust that life will catch me if I fall.
And the truth is — there’s no neat resolution to that.
Maybe Interdependence Isn’t a Destination — It’s a Risk
It’s a risk to try again.
To believe that maybe this time, the fall won’t be as hard.
Or maybe you are softer now, stronger in a different way.
Maybe your wisdom isn’t just in holding on — but in learning when and how to release.
I don’t have all the answers.
But I do know this:
If I keep holding on to what no longer fits, I’ll never find what could.
And if all I have right now is faith and the long, quiet history of getting back up — maybe that’s enough.
Maybe I’m enough.
And as Jim Rohn once said:
““Everything is risky. The minute you got born, it got risky.
If you think trying is risky, wait till they hand you the bill for not trying.
If you think investing is risky, wait till you get the tab for not investing.
It’s all risky. Getting married is risky. Having children is risky.
Going into business is risky. Investing your time is risky.
But the greatest risk of all is not taking one.””
So maybe the question isn’t whether I’m brave enough to take the risk —
But whether I can keep paying the price of not taking it.
To the Woman Reading This Who’s Been Her Own Net Too Long
If you’re here, maybe you know what this feels like too.
To be tired of surviving but afraid to trust.
To long for softness but live in a world that demands your strength.
To consider walking away from the very thing that’s held you up — and not know what’s on the other side.
I don’t have the blueprint. But I know the terrain.
And I just want to say:
You’re not weak for wanting more.
You’re not naive for hoping again.
You’re not alone if letting go feels both terrifying and necessary.
We were never meant to do this life alone — even if that’s how we learned to survive it.
