Bye Outlander. It's been a pleasure.
I haven’t watched the latest season as religiously as I used to. I wonder why. What changed?
I’ve been obsessed with Outlander for the last six or seven years—read the books several times, watched the series meticulously, and even went to Scotland (for another reason, but no less exciting).
So why aren’t the story and the news as exciting for me as they used to be? The series is still great, and I still love the characters, but I realize that I have grown.
I wanted to find my Lallybroch or my Fraser's Ridge, my Jaime. But my life has changed so much externally, and I’ve met people who fulfill something internally—something that, for many years, Claire and Jamie occupied.
I’m grateful that I let go of the show gradually, especially as they stopped filming, because it’s less painful that way. I’m grateful it was a safe place for me for many years, but now I have something so exciting happening in my own life.
I’m even more grateful because it means I’m no longer dissociating through a story (as wonderful as Outlander is). I can face real life and truly enjoy it.
But a cabin lost in the woods with a kind man warming me is always within reach.
