Becoming Mo

There’s a song by Kenny Rogers that compares life to a game of cards.

Not every hand you’re dealt is a winning one—but survival depends on discernment: knowing what to hold on to, what to let go of, and when to walk away.

That idea stayed with me.

Because choosing yourself often feels the same.

It’s not dramatic.

It’s deliberate.

When you begin to choose yourself, things shift.

Sometimes the person who once ignored you suddenly notices.

They become attentive. Apologetic. Present. They try harder.

It can feel validating.

Tempting.

Confusing.

This is where awareness matters.

Ask yourself:

Is this growth—or fear of losing access to you?

Is this change—or a familiar cycle restarting?

Because sometimes, choosing yourself means choosing finality.

There’s a Yoruba saying loosely translated as: once you’ve said good night, you don’t say hello again.

In other words—when you leave, you leave.

No polite check-ins.

No emotional recycling.

No reopening doors that cost you your peace the first time.

Not every goodbye is cruel.

Some are necessary.

Some are protective.

At some point, you must decide the goal.

To get them back—or to live a life where you feel safe, loved, and seen.

If it’s the latter, then goodbye may be the most honest choice left.

I see clearly now. And because I see, I choose.

Not out of bitterness.

Not out of pride.

But out of self-respect.

Walking away doesn’t erase the effort you invested.

It honors it.

Knowing when to walk away isn’t failure.

It’s wisdom.

I see clearly now. And because I see, I choose.

And choosing peace—consistently, unapologetically—is not selfish.

It is survival.

It is dignity.

The choice has always been in your hands.