# Let Old Forms Die — Unless Your Name Is Ridge Forrester

I recently wrote a piece called:

**Let Old Forms Die.**

A fairly clear message, I thought.

What has truly lived does not need to remain in the same form for it to have been real.

Let go.
Make space.
Stop trying to revive what has already reached completion.

And then, suddenly, I thought of Ridge Forrester.

And I realised:

**not everyone received the message.**

Ridge certainly didn’t.

Anyone who has ever watched *The Bold and the Beautiful* knows roughly how this goes.

Brooke.

Taylor.

Brooke.

Taylor.

A wedding.

A divorce.

An intense stare.

A misunderstanding.

A new promise.

An old love.

And somewhere in between, undoubtedly, once again:

**“Logan…”**

What we call *letting go*, Ridge seems to interpret more as:

**waiting for the next storyline.**

😂

And yet…

Perhaps that is precisely why it is so recognisable.

Because if we are completely truthful, we are all a little bit Ridge Forrester sometimes.

We can spend years doing inner work.

We understand our patterns.

We write about them.

We meditate on them.

We solemnly declare:

*this chapter is closed.*

And then the old pattern sends us one little message.

Someone looks at us in exactly the right way.

Or suddenly we find ourselves back in a situation we were absolutely certain we had outgrown.

And somewhere deep inside, we hear:

**“Logan…”**

Here we are again.

Perhaps not with Brooke or Taylor.

But with the same need for validation.

The same fear of losing someone.

The same people-pleasing.

The same person we keep trying to understand.

The same door we have already said goodbye to three times.

The same hope that *this time* it will be different.

Perhaps that is both the funny and the tender thing about being human.

We do not always grow in a straight line.

Sometimes we make a magnificent circle…

and find ourselves standing at the same front door again.

Only this time, perhaps, we are awake enough to think:

*Wait a minute.*

*Haven’t I been here before?*

And that is precisely where something begins to change.

Awareness does not necessarily mean that we never fall into an old pattern again.

Sometimes it simply means that we recognise ourselves in it sooner.

That right in the middle of our own soap opera, we can suddenly stop and think:

**Oh heavens. I’m Ridge.**

😂

And perhaps we don’t even have to judge ourselves for it.

Because that, too, could become another old form:

believing that growth means we should never stumble again.

That after enough healing, we should somehow be completely free of our very human sides.

That every old pattern returning must mean we haven’t come far enough.

No.

Perhaps growth is much simpler.

You recognise it.

You feel it.

You don’t have to stay in it for another twenty seasons.

You can smile.

You can feel love for the person you once were there.

And then you can say:

**this has had its time.**

Not everything that was once love needs to become a relationship again.

Not every door that reopens asks us to walk through it.

Not every familiar emotion is a destination.

And not everyone who was once important to us needs to keep occupying the same place in our lives.

Sometimes the love remains.

But the form changes.

And sometimes the most loving thing we can do is:

finally let the form go.

So if you ever find yourself standing once again in front of a door you were certain you had already closed…

be gentle with yourself.

Perhaps you are not back at the beginning.

Perhaps you are simply being given another opportunity to choose differently this time.

And if even that doesn’t work:

don’t panic.

There is always another episode.

But if at all possible:

**Let old forms die, Ridge.**

In reverence.

*And with considerable patience.*

Evelien Ari’Elune