The Pulley of Letting Go

Sometimes, the hardest thing to do was to let go—of fear, of doubt, of the need for control.

Akutu had spent weeks tangled in pressure, trying to live up to expectations she had never asked for. But after her talk with Jenny, something shifted.

She realized she had been holding on too tightly, trying so hard to be perfect that she had lost the joy of simply creating.

It was time to let go.

The next morning, she sat by her window, notebook in hand.

For the first time in weeks, she didn't stare at the screen of her laptop, waiting for words to feel "good enough." Instead, she let her thoughts flow onto paper without judgment.

She wrote about the things that scared her. The things that excited her. The small moments in life that people often overlooked.

And with every word, she felt lighter.

Later that evening, Kweku found her sitting under the campus's old baobab tree, scribbling in her notebook.

"You're writing again," he observed, sitting next to her.

Akutu nodded. "Yeah."

"Without stress this time?" he asked.

She smiled. "Without stress this time."

Kweku grinned. "Good. Because I think that's when your best work happens."

She glanced down at her notebook, the pages filled with thoughts, ideas, and emotions—raw, unfiltered, hers.

Maybe he was right.

Maybe the best things in life came when we stopped trying so hard to control everything.

The pulleys of life had shifted once again.