One of my friends recently moved into her new light filled apartment and has been busy making it her own. Unpacking boxes, hanging pictures, and wondering what to do with all her products and no bathroom cabinets. Having moved recently myself I can totally relate to all of the above.

After making tons of progress she sent out a video of her new place complete with narration. I loved it. As we all know it’s the narrative that makes each story worth telling. She panned over a piece of art hanging on the wall and said, “this picture over there is leaving because it’s the old me, it’s not me anymore.”

YES! I exclaimed to the phone as her video kept rolling. No regrets, apologies or explaining. No reason to hang on to it for sentimental purposes or feelings of “she should” keep it because…

I love changing. The deliciousness of making the decision to give away a sweater that no longer feels at home on my body. It’s a fine sweater, and it will serve someone — but not me anymore. Or a new behavior. I decided I want to throw and hostess parties monthly. Big ole fancy cocktail party’s with a dress code to match. I’ve got one in the books and more on the way.

I’m averaging new behaviors, tastes, and iterations of myself monthly. I’m letting old guilts and behaviors slough off with the spring. I barely glance their way as these old biddies shirk off into the corner.

I used to feel obligated to remain constant in all things Robyn. As if I needed to apologize for now wanting to _________.

Nope. All done with that. While I’m keeping the steadfasts and constants; the loyalty, the empathy, all that keeps me straight and true, everything else is up for grabs.

Who else out there is discarding old versions without breaking stride? I wanna hear from you.