The Moment I Stopped Trying To Fix Myself

What happens when staying where you are becomes harder than starting over?

In this episode of Life's a Blog, I reflect on Cheryl Strayed's Wild and the powerful lessons it offers about healing, self-discovery, loneliness, and finding the courage to begin again. As I prepare for a major life transition and move toward a quieter life by the lake, I'm learning that personal growth isn't always about having the answers—sometimes it's about taking the next step anyway.

We explore how stress, grief, betrayal trauma, and major life changes can show up in the body, why solitude can lead to clarity, and how letting go of unhealthy relationship patterns creates space for peace.

I also dive into Fleetwood Mac's Landslide and why its message about change, identity, and trusting yourself perfectly mirrors the journey of rebuilding a life that feels aligned.

In this episode:

• Lessons from Cheryl Strayed's Wild
• Healing after divorce, loss, and betrayal
• Why your body knows when something no longer fits
• Boundaries, self-worth, and choosing yourself
• Letting go of relationships and patterns that no longer serve you
• Finding peace through solitude and self-reflection
• The deeper meaning behind Fleetwood Mac's Landslide

If you're navigating a life transition, struggling to let go, or learning how to trust yourself again, this episode is for you.

Because sometimes becoming wild isn't about losing yourself—it's about finally coming home to who you are.

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:07

Hey there everybody. Welcome back to Life's the Blog. Well, it's been a week. But you know, in the last month, I feel that my transition has been absolutely amazing. And I've done it alone. Alone during the day, alone during packing, alone in the night, alone at work. And I just feel like screaming. I can do hard things. I want to start today with something that I watched the other day. I watched the movie Wild. I read the book years ago by Cheryl Strade, but I had never actually sat down and watched the film. And stories do not land randomly. They actually meet us where we are. And I felt that watching this yesterday was um was just it hit at the right time. And a little bit of background about Wild. Cheryl's brutally honest about her state of mind. She's hiking the Pacific Trail, and she throughout her journey admits that she had destroyed herself in her own way. And it matters because it reframes the journey. This is not about adventure or bravery, it's about survival or a reckoning. And that honestly hit me because I'm in a season where things I thought were already resolved have been quietly resurfacing. But this time in complete and utter clarity. There's no chaos involved. It's just clarity. And today I drove three hours to drop off probably what eight boxes into my new place that I'm moving. And once I returned, I made myself dinner, and I'm exhausted and I'm tired of my hair is dirty. And walking up the stairs right now was a real, real challenge. However, I can do hard things, and I felt it's very appropriate for me to do this podcast right now while I'm in the thick of it rather than weeks later, and I'm explaining how I felt. Because I feel like this was this is what this podcast is all about. It's about claiming everything that's happening in the moment rather than saying, This is what happened to me 10 years ago and how I survived it. This is how this podcast is much different. Because I am happening in the moment. My very first podcast episode is nothing like the person I was during the fifth one, or even the one right now. I'm ever growing and learning, and I feel this podcast is helping me while I'm trying to help you understand where you're at in your story. And there are seasons where brokenness feels terrifying, like everything is falling apart all at once, and that's what's exactly happening right now. Much the same as 2019, much the same as a couple of other times, 2023, when everyone died on me, but this time it's revealing. And in wild, Cheryl talks about how she thought the trail would give her answers, but instead it gave her herself. At one point, she reflects that there was nothing else to do but keep walking. And this is where I am right now. I feel like there's nothing else to do but keep looking ahead. And because sometimes healing is not insight, it's a movement. I've been spending more time alone, intentional time. And when the noise quiets, the body starts speaking. I have been so much in pain. I can barely move sometimes. And I was talking to one of my friends, my trailer park friends, who teach a friend who teaches yoga, and she's like, Trina, the doctor's gonna come back with nothing. She goes, You're just under an immense amount of stress. So I feel what I've been managing. I notice what I've been tolerating, and I finally recognize what no longer fits. And I feel that's a very important growth, a very important part of my life. So I am moving to Port Frank's. And I want to say this clearly. I hate the idea of leaving my family. I love them so dearly. And this move is not about running away from love, it's about moving toward peace. Because the last few months, probably even the last year, has been full of chaos. And this chaos is getting a little too grandiose for me. And I just need that surrounding of peace. I know that area lifts my heart up like no other. And in wild, Cheryl does not take the trail because she's fearless. She admits she doesn't even know if she can do it, and she goes because staying where she is has some un has become unbearable. And I feel that this situation where I'm in right now, it's become unbearable. And I'm trying something very new. I'm going to be renting a home that is fully furnished without a lot of my things, or most of my things, to be honest with you. Not the same bed, not the same pots. And then when May comes, I'm going to be moving into my trailer, which is much smaller. A trailer toilet. And um it's going to be wild. It may not be Pacific Trail walking wild because I would never survive two miles, let alone a thousand. But it's going to be wild in my own way. And with Cheryl and myself, that distinction matters. There are moments in life where nothing looks wrong on paper, but everything feels heavy inside, and that's exactly where I am right now. It's staying in this situation costs more than actually leaving and trying. Every time I drive towards my trailer, it's my grandson coming out. And where I'll be living, my body responds. Like I said, my heart lifts, my breathing slows, my chest softens. I just feel so much lighter, and it's worth the chance. It's worth the adventure. And here is something we do not talk enough about. Life is not meant to feel heavy by default. Cheryl writes about learning to trust her body on the trail before she trusted her mind. Her legs carried her even when fear was loud. And today when I went down the trailer and I hit boxes, and I'm an overweight lady who needs to lose weight. And I did it one box at a time, and I drove up that hill because there's a ravine on both sides of the driveway. And I was terrified that my emergency brake would go off. I'd slide down the hill or fall down the hill or fall into the ravine. But I managed to do everything and accomplish everything that I set out to do. And I just kind of felt like Cheryl at that time, where even though her journey was far more exhausting and adventurous, I just felt that my little journey was parallel to hers, knowing where I am. So, you know, I've thought about this a lot, and I think this time it's it it really resonates that, you know, if a friendship constantly drains you, you should listen. If a relationship feels dark and dismal more often than nourishing, listen. If someone is coming to visit and your immediate reaction is tension instead of ease, you're allowed to say no. Your body keeps record long after your mind starts rationalizing. And time is precious, energy is finite, and the body doesn't lie. And I'm the type of person that just does not like to let go. I'm probably not as bad as what I was ten years ago, but there's still that part of me that has to hold on to everything. And one of the most powerful moments in Wild was when Cheryl writes her ex-husband's name in the sand, and she's done this ritual on many beaches before. But this time she writes in her journal that it will be the last time. And at the end of the day, she reflects and she said the only real choice was to keep walking. And it wasn't about bitterness bitterness, it's about completion completion, it's about letting go. Because if you do not let go, you stay in a circular emotion. You revisit the same emotional terrain, you do not grow, you remain ill at ease, and your body carries what your mind refuses to release. And I've seen this happen time and time again with people. I've seen it with some of the partners that I had. I've seen it with friends, I've seen it with my mom. And I kind of see it with myself as well, because my body has carried it so much unprocessed grief, unspoken truths, and the relationships that required me to shrink. But letting go is not erasing love or memories. It is releasing attachment to what no longer meets you where you are. And oh my god, growth is so lonely. I have spent so many lonely nights. I've watched Modern Family from beginning to end because it makes me smile. I've sat in it, I've sat alone in it, I've thought about it, I've wrote about it. I've gone back in time about it. But in Wild, Cheryl writes about her solitude on the trail and how there was no one to distract her from herself. The loneliness was uncomfortable, but it was also where Clarity lived. And as you grow, friendships change. Not because anyone is bad, but because compatibility shifts. And you can still love someone deeply and still recognize that the relationship no longer operates at the level you need. And then you become lonely for that friendship that matches you where you are and the growth that you're experiencing. And that loneliness is not failure, it's just comes along with it. And this shows up in dating too. I've, you know, in my loneliness, I have reached out to a few gentlemen, but I've learned some amazing things about myself, too. Because I was having this great conversation with someone. I thought there was some vibe happening. And then on Friday night, about 11:30, he texts and he goes, I wish you were here. And instead of feeling flattered, I was like, But you don't know me. How can you wish that when you truly don't know the person that I am right now? And then the heebie jeebies kind of come into play. And I'm no longer interested in being a fantasy. These are 50 to 60 year old men. It's time to be mature and be healthy. And some most actually can't. And then another man told me plainly that he was looking for something casual. And you know what? Years ago I might have believed I could change that. And now I take people at face value. So I said, sorry, if you'd read my description. I'm just looking for something that's long-term and healthy. You should never be working harder than the other person. And flattery and going to that top level of I wish you were here. There's a time and place for that. And it's not five conversations after you swipe right on Tinder. And as Mel Robbins reminds us, you should not have to convince someone to choose you. And I've been through that road a time or two as well. So I feel me and my aloneness now is just exactly what I need. And I'm so excited to head down to Port Frank's in the woods by the beach. To even have more clarity, to find more clarity. Hopefully I'll find more clarity. But I'm manifesting that it will give me much more clarity. So, Spotify does not like when you play songs. And neither do the artists. So I have to stop that. But I think a great song to dissect in the topic that we're on is Landslide by Fleetwick Mack. And it mirrors my season of life perfectly. Landslide is often misunderstood as a song about collapse, but it's not. It's actually about reckoning. It opens with the image of climbing a mountain and turning around to look at what is behind you. This is not someone falling. This is about someone who has climbed high enough to see clearly. There is an early acknowledgement of fear, quiet fear. The kind that asks whether you're capable of what comes next. Can I handle this version of my life? Is one of the most well known lines asked whether you can move through the changing tides of life. Notice it's not asking for certainty. It's actually asking for capacity. And this song is the same emotional territory that Wilde occupies. It's the same territory that I'm occupying right now. Cheryl does not know how the journey will end. She simply knows that she cannot stay where she is. She writes about learning to trust herself without guarantees. The song also touches on identity. There's a moment of wondering whether change means losing one losing oneself. And we confuse growth with abandonment. We think becoming someone new means betraying who we are. And I've lived through that so many times. Where if I do this, I can't do that. If I do this, I can't do that. If I quit this, I won't be that. And you know, you can be all parts of yourself. I know recently my daughter, not recently, my daughter is almost a year sober now, and it was a struggle at first, and she's actually her same little fun self that when she was drinking, as she is now sober, and you know, you don't have to betray those good parts of you. Those good parts of you will shine through as you grow confidence, as you grow, as you get unfazed about anybody else's thoughts or opinions of you. And landslide dismantles that myth. Because later in the song, there is a reflection, looking in the mirror, seeing change, not resisting it, just witnessing it. That is the heart of the song. Fear is present, but fear is not leading. And growth is not destruction, it's just a reorientation of your life. So I'm not falling apart, I'm actually recalibrating. So I want you, my listener, my follower, to do a few things over the next week to try to reorient yourself toward becoming wild. Becoming wild is not about blowing up your life, it's about returning to yourself without apology. So number one, I want you to do a lightness audit. For one week, pay attention to how your body responds to people, places, and plans. And after those experiences, ask yourself, did I feel lighter or heavier? Does my chest soften or tighten? This is nervous system data. Start choosing the lighter option when you can. And number two is walk without a destination. I am challenging you because I'm challenging myself. Take walks without tracking steps, time, or outcome. No podcast, no music, no productivity angle. Let's just allow our mind to wander and let the discomfort show up and let clarity surface on its own. Wilderness begins where distraction ends. And three, I want you to stop explaining yourself. Pick one area of your life and stop over-explaining your decisions. Don't make any justifications, no preambles, no softening the truth to make it palatable. A simple, this is what works for me right now is enough. Wilderness grows when you stop negotiating your own needs. And also release one relationship pattern. Not a person, but a pattern. An example is always being the one who reaches out or goes to those people overfunctioning emotionally or trying to earn closeness. And a big one that we all do is staying quiet to keep the peace. I was watching, I don't even know this guy on TikTok. He's Irish. And um sometimes, you know, um, staying quiet to keep the peace, sometimes it'll be taught to you as taking the high road. But you know, standing up for yourself requires shaking things up a little bit, and it actually is really hard the first, second, or third time, but you know, once you get to time 10 or 11, standing up for yourself, it actually feels good. So, like, name the pattern, step out of it once, notice what happens. Wilderness is often just withdrawing energy from one no longer reciprocates, and you'll see it. But you have to be in tune and intentional. And you know, something I've been doing and saying actually in the last month or so is writing the truth that I. I've been editing. And I've been asking myself, and I've been writing about it, what I might what I'm tolerating that I no longer want to carry. And wilderness begins with truth that is witnessed. I have spoken up quite a bit, and I have been saying this is what I'm not tolerating anymore. And it will come and bring percussions, and you have to be very prepared and mindful of it. But as long as you believe in yourself and you believe in your boundaries and your self-worth, you can get through this, and it's difficult. All of these steps are very, very difficult. And finally, choose solitude on purpose. Schedule a time alone the way you would schedule an appointment and protect it. Because from what I'm experiencing right now is growth requires quiet. And wildness requires space. And again, becoming wild is not about becoming someone else. It's about shedding the versions of yourself that were built to survive, not to live. You do not need to find yourself. I think when people say that, it makes it so stressful. Because I've asked myself, who am I? Where am I going? What am I doing? And it's more stressful than it is to just listen and be quiet and learn about yourself without the distractions. Because you need to stop abandoning yourself, and this is where wildness begins. And you know, this episode is about lightness. I certainly don't want to turn it into a dark force, but be with people who lift your heart, places that lift your heart, conversations that feel expansive instead of draining. If you can sit with someone for two, three hours and look at your watch and say, Oh my god, I can't believe what time it is. Then they're your people. Near the end of Wild, Cheryl reflects that she did not emerge with neat answers. But she did emerge change. She understood that her life would continue unfolding. Imperfect and honest. And I think that's we have high expectations that things are gonna end up perfect, but there's always hurdles, and we just have to accept it for what it is and keep looking forward because life is sort short. Staying stuck is not loyalty, it's self-abandonment. This season is about trusting the body, listening to the heart, letting the broken parts do what they were always meant to do. They were not meant to define you. They weren't meant to limit you. They were there to set you free. I hope you all have a good week. I'm three days late in the podcast, exhausted, and got dirty hair. And I know I have another trying week ahead, but if we do get through this together and if we start the conversation on my socials, Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, at LifeSublogca, know that I'll always respond. And I hope you have a fantastic week. And I hope you take one small step in getting a little wild.