It's never easy to let go of something you love. Really, it's one of the hardest conclusions a person will ever have to come to, acknowledging — and then accepting — that a part of your life is no longer servicing you as it once did. I have suffered two great disappointments of this kind, two crushing blows of realization that a thing I had built my life around wasn't working for me the way I wanted it to. The first, years ago, was smoking weed. ("It's actually really good for anxiety," everyone would tell me, while my hands shook and my heart raced and my vision blurred and I considered calling my parents to tell them I loved them before I died.) And the second, far more recently, was essential oils.