The Quiet Revolution of Letting Go

Written by Assata Akil

There’s power in the silent revolution.

The kind that doesn’t announce itself.

The kind that begins beneath the surface.

There’s power in the pivot.

In choosing differently.

In letting go of what no longer fits.

In the stillness, I noticed it—

a quiet invitation to pause.

To listen.

To make space.

I spent a month in Belize.

I thought I’d create magic there—revive my energy, dive into my projects, tap into something fresh.

But instead, I slowed down.

Actually… I stopped.

And that pause revealed just how tightly I had been holding on.

Holding on to the invisible pressure to produce, to perform, to stay visible.

Holding on to an identity that no longer fit.

Holding on to rhythms that looked like success—but felt like exhaustion.

I didn’t realize how much I had been carrying until I finally gave myself permission to pause.

To breathe.

To question.

And then, in one quiet, powerful act—

I cut my hair.

Not for aesthetics.

But for liberation and healing.

It wasn’t just hair I let go of—

it was the version of myself I no longer needed to be.

That single act became a sacred release.

A shedding.

A ceremony.

I never lost my creativity.

It was just resting.

Waiting for me to return—

not as the performer,

but as the vessel.

When I stopped trying to “get it back,”

it came to meet me.

Not through force,

but through surrender.

Slowly, it returned.

The urge to paint.

The pull to write.

The breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

Not for deadlines.

Not for engagement.

But because my spirit was finally still enough to listen.

Not to be seen—

but to feel again.

Then I came across a post by Kemetic yoga instructor Ramsses Amun. He wrote:

“The power is in the pivot.

It’s okay to outgrow what once felt right.

You gave your all to that thing — built it, nurtured it, became known for it.

But now, it no longer lights you up.

And that’s not failure — that’s evolution.

You’re not stuck.

You’re just hesitating to pivot.

Wondering if people will still support you, still understand you.

But just know, this next chapter isn’t about being understood — it’s about being true.

The freedom. The alignment. The joy.

It all lives on the other side of your willingness to shift.

You’re allowed to change.

You’re meant to grow.

Don’t cling to the old out of fear — you’ve got new dreams to meet.”

His words didn’t just resonate—they affirmed.

I was already in the pivot.

I came to understand something quiet but true:

My pivot wasn’t a detour—

It was a reclamation.

To truth.

To alignment.

To self.

Change isn’t always loud.

Sometimes it looks like stillness.

Sometimes it feels like grief.

Sometimes it shows up as a quiet haircut—

and opens the door to everything you thought you had lost.

Sometimes, it’s the release of what you didn’t even know you were carrying.

If you feel the pull, don’t resist it.

You’re not falling apart.

You’re under sacred reconstruction.

“If you want to know what greatness is — it’s not dominance. It’s healing.”

— Mike Tyson

What I found in Belize wasn’t a spark.

It was space.

To reclaim my peace.

To reclaim my power.

To reclaim myself.

Because quiet or not—

revolution is necessary.

About the Writer: 

Assata Akil is an artist, author, and storyteller whose works explore identity, strength, and femininity. She is the author of Ear Candy, Ear Candy: The Fetish Edition, and Petty Cache. Her latest project, IFE Unveiled, combines literature and visual art, showcased at SoHo Galleries in Mérida, Mexico. Based in Mérida with her family, Assata continues to inspire through her bold and evocative creations. 

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