Cherry Lamont on the power of helping others, letting go, and self-growth
There have been so many obstacles that I’ve had to overcome throughout my life. Adversity is that one vice that both myself – and everyone I’ve ever encountered – just can’t seem to quit. But it’s never my own design. From the moment I entered the universe, adversity has been thrust upon me as if by fate. Yet, through all these challenges blossom incredible life lessons that make up the fibre of my being. For some, it breaks us, for others, it makes us. I chose to let it make me. I have the power in my mind and soul to allow adversity to make me. Yet I’ve had to learn that there’s strength and beauty in letting pain and suffering break you.
Letting these struggles go shows itself in different forms for everyone. Why has this happened to me? What did I do to deserve this? How can they walk away unscathed? These questions plague my mind and have done forever, every time someone does me wrong. Whether it’s heartbreak or abuse, my mind torments me with these unknowns. As if I’ve been told, somewhere down the line, that my traumas are my fault. They never are. I need to understand and believe that.
“One moment. There’s always that one moment that makes everything click. You sit there and realise, somewhere down the line, amidst the storm, that you’re okay”
One moment. There’s always that one moment that makes everything click. You sit there and realise, somewhere down the line, amidst the storm, that you’re okay. You wholeheartedly let go. That isn’t to say that pain doesn’t leave scars on your body. Even the strongest soldiers have wounds and scars that never disappear. It’s the curse of human nature. But you reach that impasse where it doesn’t bother you anymore. The pain conceives a new version of who you used to be.
My moment. The one where I realised I had let go, without comprehension, which I would argue is one of the most beautiful aspects of self-growth. There I was, sitting at the train station, waiting for the other half of me to come home. It had been a few weeks since I’d last seen him and I was full of elation. Excitement. But what happened next was an opportunity to realise that my heartbreak from a previous relationship, had healed and I didn’t even know it.
My first – and hopefully last – heartbreak catalysed a week of silence, depression and weight loss. It destroyed me. It’s never easy to acknowledge the fact that I let a man destroy me. I was admitting how silly that boy made me. Just so these young girls didn’t feel so alone. I made myself look ridiculous for a man who didn’t even want me. He just wanted his cake and to eat it too. And I let him. Following him around like a little puppy, making myself available whenever he wanted, all for him to run off to someone else. I knew she existed, but didn’t want to admit it to myself.
Two young girls approached the bench where I was sitting, one of them in tears. I debated if I ought to ask if they were okay, but they came to me first. It was one of those unprecedented fateful moments. At least that’s how I like to look at it. “My boyfriend is cheating on me”. Never would I have been worried about these issues at their age. But I guess it’s the lamentable sign of the times. It reminds me of a 22-year-old me, suffering the same thing. Whilst it still causes insecurity, I found myself talking to these girls about how a man who cheats on you doesn’t love you. As much as it’s hard to walk away as a young girl and in love, there is so much more out there for you. Especially at that age, you have so much more to look forward to. It’s hard to admit to yourself when you put yourself in a position to be hurt.
“The truth is, there is no art of letting go. It just happens. When you least expect it.”
Never did I think that I would reach a point where I could use my pain as a means to bestow advice to others. I found myself feeling absolutely nothing but pride, that I was able to take my pain and make these girls feel less alone. Their faces were washed over with calm as they listen to the words falling from my mouth, and the relief that this isn’t something they’re dealing with alone. I can’t even pinpoint the moment where it stopped hurting me, it just did.
The emotion that these girls showed me, the relief that it’s a universal experience we go through, made me realise that my pain was worth it. Whilst I had let go, my experience was useful to some strangers. I hope I helped those girls to do the same. It was during this time that I’d realised that my heart didn’t hurt anymore. Aside from the fact that I no longer think about him, and I haven’t for a long time, I realised that I no longer defended his juvenile actions. I let these girls know, that no man, or boy, was worth these tears; if they choose to cheat, they aren’t the one for you. There will be men out there that will beg to be with you and treat you the way you deserve. If you were to ask me a year ago, to discuss what he did to me, there would be a 99% chance of tears, and blaming myself. But not anymore. I had let go and let these girls know that it gets better. I am living proof of that.
The truth is, there is no art of letting go. It just happens. When you least expect it. If I can give advice to strangers about my heartbreak, without realising when, or how, I healed myself, it’s possible for everyone. But that’s not to say that there is no strength in feeling pain. Those who allow themselves to feel pain are the strongest of us.
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