How do we say goodbye?
and open to opportunity?
A record of sticking around where I don’t belong
I’m historically terrible at saying goodbye. The first job I ever quit (Trader Joe’s) was filled with tears and apologies for literally just needing to take care of my disabling needs. The tears were a cocktail of many strains; the desire to be of value, the shame of leaving something behind, the guilt of inconveniencing others, and a fear of failure for not being able to keep up with the physical demands of the job without excruciating pain. It didn’t occur to me then that it was a signal I was meant for something different; I was so focused on what I was holding onto that I couldn’t anticipate what could fill it’s place in time.
It’s not just jobs that felt impossible to leave– I have a long list of relationships that I refused to let go of until it got to a breaking point on both ends. Friendships that I went on fighting for even after too much damage was done. I valued loyalty and showing up for others with a seemingly endless capacity to share love and connect with those around me. Being a teenager with an anxious attachment style, every ending felt like severing a new limb from my body. By the end of high school, I had lost quite a few. However, the pieces of my identity that I shed with every goodbye allowed me to uncover new potential, and the opportunity to meet myself again and again and again.
“How many times can you find yourself? Over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again.”
Willing goodbyes are acts of blind faith. They put us in the position to lead ourselves in the co-creation of our own trajectories. To question our attachments to the specificity of outcomes. It can feel impossible without self-trust. A small disclaimer here– trauma has a huge impact on our ability to trust ourselves and outcomes. This is work I did in tandem with talk therapy, EMDR, and many other resourceful supports.
My most recent goodbye
In April 2023 I became a working artist. Now, three years later, I have willingly decided to close my business down.
The beginning was easy to start– I was in the heels of being laid off from my first corporate role (not a willing goodbye, but one I was ready for), and decided to spend my time in between jobs painting every single day. I did this for about three months, and by the time I had landed my next role, the business side of my art practice was set in motion. In the years since, this practice gave me so much to be grateful for; I sold prints and originals at markets, partnered with local businesses, hosted an art gala, made commissions, showed my work in galleries, and was featured in a magazine. I joined a network of incredible creative people in the Twin Cities (I truly believe our art scene is something to be cherished). Above all, this practice helped me find my voice, my style, and a sense of curiosity that slowly, over time, took the place of my fears.
“What would life feel like if you lead with curiosity rather than fear?”
The hard work for the easy decision
Knowing when to say goodbye isn’t always clear– for me, it took receiving my largest commission request to date, and realizing I didn’t have it in me to produce. This decision was compounded with many other responsibilities that tipped the scales from play to work, stripping my art of an integral factor– the desire to create.
Here’s the thing about goodbyes- it’s hard to not second-guess them. The weight of permanence often holds us back from crossing over the invisible line of choice. The reality is, in my situation, all I’m letting go of are the aspects of creating that have been weighing me down. There is no rule (spoken or unspoken) that keeps me from continuing to create, or changing my mind in the future. On the other side of this decision, I can appreciate how integral this art business was to who I am now. Still, as I watched my remaining inventory sell out, I couldn’t help but wonder why I needed to give it up. I suppose I don’t need to know that yet. Finding acceptance through gratitude, I spent some time reflecting on how this business gave me everything I needed it to, even if it didn’t end up how I initially imagined. This goodbye becomes the catalyst for something bigger, sustaining a larger eco-system, calling back my energy for the next project.
The slingshot theory
You may have experienced this before– you are living in a routine that you’ve been previously satisfied with, and after a long period of stability and ease, it begins to feel like the walls are closing in. Once-fulfilling work, homes, or relationships feel strenuous or misaligned, and it seems like you’re moving backwards. Options feel limited, maybe you feel stuck. The path forward is uncertain and narrow, hard to see.
This is what happens when it’s time to say goodbye. My partner and I most recently experienced this when deciding to move from our one-bedroom apartment into a house. We knew that we needed to get out (I literally started feeling claustrophobic in our space), and were struggling to find compatible options. Houses we liked would get rented to the people who toured right before us. We had already given notice to our current building, and the decision began to feel like a trap. It felt like we had no where to go– our already small room, shrinking. Then a thought came to me- what if this tension wasn’t the walls closing in, but rather, we were in a slingshot?
What if that feeling of moving backwards is actually necessary to gain the traction to fly forward? When you look from side to side, all you see is where you’ve been, but this tension and contraction will always lead to an expansion, if you aim high when you’re feeling your lowest.
Once I realized this, I decided we needed to aim higher– to get specific on everything we wanted in order to feel good saying yes to a lease. The very next home we looked at was the last one on our list. If we didn’t like this one, we were going to stop looking for a month, and hope a last minute option would become available.
This home had everything we were wanting and more. A couple of trade off’s that were low on our priority list (no central air, and a couple blocks outside of our current neighborhood), but otherwise perfect. We moved in two weeks later. Very quickly, the tension we were feeling dissipated. The perceived lack of options alchemized into opportunity and expansion.
The goodbye checklist
Once you realize you’re in the slingshot, there are a few steps that naturally follow. They are simple in theory, but tend to unfold a bit more each time you experience them.
Surrender- understand that it’s time to say goodbye. Know that the solution might not be immediate, but that the tension is temporary. It often helps to give in to it, and witness it exist.
Acceptance (& other stages of grief)- sometimes saying goodbye asks us to examine ourselves, release beliefs we have about the world, and grieve. This step is to be done with utmost care, compassion, and time.
Clarity- hints of what could be possible come through. A creative spark, inspiration, or a desire that sparks a flame within you. This is where you aim your slingshot, and prepare to fly.
Action- taking part in all of the decisions and actions that must be made in order to release what is no longer needed. Quit the job, end the relationship, cancel your subscriptions, whatever it looks like for you. The most important decisions are often the hardest to make.
Gratitude- reflect on your experience. The lessons, the reasons, the gains, the losses, all of it can be made purposeful if we choose to learn from it.
Trust- there’s a slight caveat with this last step– it requires you to return to it every single day. Having trust in the unseen and unknown is a process of constant self-assurance and the belief that our efforts are always at work in our favor.
“Becoming the person you have always wanted to be will cost you everything you once were.”
In recent years, I have transformed into a person who is no longer fearful of goodbyes. Self-trust and curiosity have been a catalyst to take huge leaps towards the life I’ve dreamed of living. My dreams look different now than they did in my early years; working in fashion, being in love, living in Paris. For a brief time, I actually did live in Paris, and work in fashion. I had the kind of relationships I saw in coming-of-age movies, and I held onto all of these dreams for as long as I could, eventually clawing my way through each painful goodbye one by one. Even now, I know there’s no benefit in feeling shame or disappointment for how long you held onto something when you knew it might not be right. There’s nothing to rush, nothing to prove. It’s all a process unfolding.
Saying goodbye is a skill. One that requires trust, and the embodiment of all you want to become, at the expense of all you once were.
Soft Skills
May 2026
ABOUT ME
Eleni Sophocleus (she/her) is a multi-disciplinary artist based in Minneapolis, and owner of Studio Esse; a design house specializing in strategy, branding, and web design for creative founders seeking to transform their unique strengths into magnetic brand identities.
Let me be your mirror.
www.studio-esse.co | hello@studio-esse.co