Letting go

Amma's ancient Tamil Brahmi texts yellowed in cardboard boxes. My poet grandmother's unpublished verses lay forgotten, dismissed by a world chasing viral moments and monetized content. I'd spent years trying to make her legacy profitable, posting fragments hoping algorithms would recognize genius. Then I stopped. I released my obsession with numbers, with making heritage marketable. Instead, I sat with her words genuinely, letting them breathe. My community found me naturally afterward, drawn to authenticity rather than desperation. Sometimes letting go means finding what matters most: connection, continuity, belonging.