How to let go
Tom Corneill
Tom is a writer, musician and watchmaker based in Bath. When not playing with words or watches you might find him in his daytime alter ego as an Investments Consultant. Follow on Instagram or Twitter @tomcorneill
With a new decade, many people seek out change and personal development and although it’s difficult, sometimes it's essential to our survival and our happiness. Tom Corneill reveals a few of his experiences around the challenges of change, how he overcame them and why he’s glad he did.
I started writing this in December 2019 when it was intended as a reflection on the year and on things I’d decided to give up in search of clarity and a healthier, happier lifestyle. But before I got around to publishing the post, a new year’s conversation with a close friend revealed that they too needed to give something up. Me. Unbeknownst to me, years of not communicating openly had led to my dear friend feeling that our relationship had changed to the point where they no longer felt nourished and was actually causing them harm. I was shocked at first, then deeply upset. But as the days passed and I was able to process the loss, it also dawned on me that this was a good example that nothing lasts forever and it’s OK – it’s necessary – to let things go. And you have the final say on what stays in your life and what goes.
Turning the clock back by six or seven years, if you were meeting me for dinner you would know that I didn’t need to see the full menu, just the list of available burgers. Cheeseburger. Cheeseburger with bacon. Cheeseburger with bacon, covered in pulled pork. With another burger on top. The night would most probably have started with beers at home, followed by beers at a bar before dinner, possibly straying at some point into cocktails after dinner, then back to beers, then beer avec whiskey chaser and finally two or three of whatever the hell you dare me to drink before we get kicked out of… wherever it is we ended up. You get the picture. Now, I’m not actually saying there’s anything wrong with this (well, the gratuitous meat feast perhaps) but things changed and in time it became wrong for me. My body changed. My brain changed. I changed. Because we all change.
“Nothing lasts forever and it’s OK – it’s necessary – to let things go”
I started to cut down on alcohol maybe six years ago because I can’t cope with hangovers – I get depressed, anxious and paranoid in the aftermath and the throbbing in my brain could persist for days – so I knew that imbibing so heavily (and so frequently) was not good for my health. I started cutting down on meat and dairy a couple of years later because I’m just not comfortable consuming animals. More recently – along with much of the rest of the population – I’ve given up things like plastic packaging and unnecessary travel in the hope of a better future. But making these changes wasn’t easy.
The first challenge in giving something up is you. You’re addicted. You’re comfortable. You love a cheeseburger, or the feeling of being smashed, or the familiarity of the old scene, or whatever your vice is. And for all of these reasons it’s easy to fall back into old habits. But does that really make you happy? For me, once I’d identified and accepted the drawbacks of boozy 4am finishes the guilt that followed for the next two days – wrapped up neatly in depressive episodes and punctuated by panic attacks – was worse than before. I was temporarily of little or no use to my wife, my family, my employer or myself and I felt absolutely horrendous. While my big night out had been tons of fun it just wasn’t worth risking my health, happiness or relationships over (and when I write that down and read it back to myself it’s even more of a no-brainer, what was I thinking?).
Similarly, as someone who had always said that if a person is to eat an animal they should be prepared to kill and cook it themselves, I eventually came to accept I could never bring myself to do these things, so I knew I had to give up meat. Did that knowledge make it easy? Of course not. I was raised in a world where meat is normal – the centrepiece around which the rest of our diet is arranged – and my addiction to it was as real as it is to many people reading this now. But I knew I had to give it up. For me. I can say with sincerity now that I’d known for years, I just didn’t want to admit it because I knew that changing would be hard.
The second and most problematic challenge is… everyone else. OK, so you’ve weighed up the options, made a decision and become resolute in your intent to change. You are therefore different to the people around you. Different both in terms of how they see you, and in terms of how you live versus how they live. It’s weird for them. There’s a big fat elephant in your favourite steak house which means you your mate can’t go there anymore and that sucks for both of you. Or maybe it’s that they can’t understand why you’re drinking… wait… is that non-alcoholic beer you’re drinking? Are you OK? What’s wrong with you?! And now you don’t want to stay out until 4 because let’s face it – people who are more drunk than you become tedious past midnight. They don’t get that either. ‘You’ve changed.’ The path to where you know you need to be can be a lonely road but you know deep down it will be worth it.
These are just a couple of examples but the truth is whether you’re giving up meat, alcohol, cheese, a job, religion, whatever – you are making a change and it’s naive to think that this in turn won’t change you. It will. For you, hopefully this change will mean better things. Hopefully you’ll be healthier, or happier, or healthier because you’re happier. And those are the reasons why you need to be strong and allow yourself to change while also asking those around to accept the change.
I personally don’t go in for preaching (there’s nothing worse than someone who went veggie last week and now wears a ‘meat is murder’ t-shirt every day) but you may find that just in confidently living your new life it invites some healthy conversation that helps people come to know you better. You may even find that your changes start to influence others. Christmas 2018 was awkward because I was too embarrassed to tell my family I wasn’t really eating meat anymore, but by this Christmas I was happily bringing veggie and vegan options for everyone to try and enjoying both the satisfaction of their pleasant surprise and the contorted faces pulled at some of the admittedly less-than-brilliant ‘vegan cheeses’ (they’re getting better but jeez there are some horrors out there. Shout out to Violife who have had some great successes).
You may well be leading the charge for something that later becomes the norm. I used to find it weird when people gave up on Facebook but I realise now that they’re not weirdo recluses, they’re the trailblazers and were right all along.
We all know that we are imperfect. We all know there are some things we do that probably aren’t great for ourselves, the people around us or for the planet. What you do about that is up to you and there should be no judgement for the way you’ve been living your life until now, unless you’re intentionally causing harm to yourself or the world around you. But once you’ve spotted that harm there is no going back and continuing to do that harm – even if just through letting it continue – equals intent. We cannot let ourselves be forever defined by the things we used to feel attached to and we should all feel free to break the contracts we have with the things that we realise aren’t good for us anymore. And sadly, if that means growing apart from people then perhaps you have to allow that too. There are other people in the world who will welcome the arrival of the new you.
“I feel more ‘me’ than I’ve felt since I was a child; a time of ceaseless, guilt-free, happy self-expression.”
In spite of the personal and social challenges I’ve faced – and still face – in making the changes that I feel are necessary for me, I feel so much better than I once did. Frankly, I feel more ‘me’ than I’ve felt since I was a child; a time of ceaseless, guilt-free, happy self-expression. I urge you to find the confidence to make changes you (and only you) think you need to make. It will feel fantastic in the long-run.
On a personal note, I hope the changes my friend made at New Year mean a fantastic new start and if future changes mean our paths merge again we’ll celebrate that too. Once again, in the words of Echo And The Bunnymen, ‘Nothing ever lasts forever’. And from Cheryl Crowe, ‘I think a change will do you good’.