I'm standing at the back of the church, watching my youngest son and his bride walk out into their new life together, and I feel two things at once: A sweet, aching release—the caregiving relationship I've treasured for so long is shifting. And an unexpected surge of freedom—Now, more than ever before, it's time to follow my own dreams.

In just a few weeks, my husband retires from the military after three decades. We don't know yet if we're staying or moving—that depends on what opportunities emerge. But I'm not just asking where we're going. I'm asking who I'm becoming—and what I need to carry with me into whatever comes next.

Here's what I'm learning: Some things we carry aren't actually part of us. They're scaffolding—temporary supports we needed to build something, but not the thing itself. The problem is, we hold onto them so long they start to feel essential. And then when circumstances change, we can't tell the difference between losing scaffolding and losing ourselves.

The art of knowing what to carry forward and what to leave behind—that's the work of authentic growth.