Let Me Let Go

Sometimes I get tired of deciding.

What to do, what to say, who to be.

Even the small things—what to eat, what to wear, when to speak—feel like a maze I can’t find my way through.

I spend my days analyzing everything, trying to make the right choice. It’s exhausting.

There’s a voice in my head that never shuts up—Did I do the right thing? Did I upset someone? Should I have said that differently?

I crave silence.

Not outside—inside.

That’s why I want you to take control.

Not because I want to be small or powerless,

but because I want to feel safe enough to stop thinking.

To stop managing every detail, every emotion, every outcome.

I want to surrender, not to disappear, but to breathe again.

I want to be told what to do—not because I’m weak, but because I trust you.

I want your hands to ground me, your voice to guide me.

I want to feel my body instead of my mind.

When you tell me to kneel, or to stay still, or to look at you—

something in me quiets.

The world narrows, and for once, it’s simple.

You lead. I follow. I don’t have to think.

It’s not about control. It’s about release.

It’s about trust so deep that I can finally let go of the weight I carry every day.

Let me give that to you.

Let me let go.