Tag: becoming

Checking In

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I wanted to take a moment to pause and reflect on what this space is and has meant to me. Kind of like a mid-point check in.

First of all, thank you to anyone who has read even one of these posts. Sometimes, my writings feel like a shot in the dark. Often, I just need to write it down so I can put it to rest in my mind. But to know that someone reads anything I’ve put out, really means everything. I’ve had some incredible one-on-one conversations with people who’ve felt a connection to the experiences I share. And this is more than I could’ve hoped for.

This blog has been a tumultuous journey of “collecting, sorting, and storing [memories] with the intention of holding on to the good things for the journey up yonder” (Megan Devine). When I began, I was dealing with a very recent separation from the person I thought I’d spend my life with. Added to that, I had moved back home for the first time in 8 years, jobless and completely lost. Together, these were (and still are) very traumatic and dislodging experiences. I looked around and I felt like I was sitting on square one. Probably even negative one.

But it has been a really liberating and strangely natural experience of sharing my personal journey on these pages. What began as an act of self preservation, has become an act of self care and self reflection.

What I’ve learned is that it’s okay to still be in search of my joy. I will find it. Or more likely, it will find me.

When I first began this blog, I wasn’t sure what I wanted it to be, I just knew I was no longer afraid to share my voice. If anything, I hope that’s what you take from it: that you’re no longer afraid of anything. Heartbreak. Returning home. Unemployment. Failure. Zombies. None of these things will end you (except for zombies, obviously). So gather your pieces, and continue on…

You have my unending support.

 

“Be brave enough to break your own heart.” – Cheryl Strayed, Tiny Beautiful Things

Diverge // Digress

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I feel myself separating. Detaching.

Diverging in a new way. In a way that is both sad and merciful in its making. In a way I could never have predicted. I feel myself separating from you in a real way. Growing out and away. I feel quietness when thoughts of you broach my mind.

What is this?

The love that we cultivated was the netting on which I built my universe. It’s so strange to not feel that anymore. Or at least, to feel so very far from that. So very distance. Almost as if I have to remind myself of how real that once was.

What is this?

I call this detachment both sad and merciful because it really is. Sad, because our connection was so central to who I was. To what I wanted to be. To what I could see, feel and hope for. Merciful, because I thought I could never let go, or worst…that it would never let go of me. I thought I would drown under the weight of our damage.

But maybe not. Maybe I’m finally done. Maybe I can finally breathe deeply once again.

With time, I’ve changed. Grown. Released. Cried. Been tormented. Prayed. Meditated. Cried. Laughed. Longed. Raged. Released. Become…

Become something different. A new animal.

One less…wounded. Devoted. Bound.

One more…awake. In control. Tired. Honest. Detached. Ready.

I don’t want to go back to where I was before. I felt like I was shattering and burning. I was self-destructive and called it love.

I can’t be attached like that anymore.

“I let you leave. I need someone who knows how to stay.” – Warsan Shire, the unbearable weight of staying – (the end of the relationship)

An Ode to Old Wes

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Five years ago to date, I graduated from Wesleyan. Who the hell was I even on that day? Petrified? Mentally exhausted? Hopeful? All of the above & more. Mostly, I was completely unaware of how much my life had been altered by those four years.

The first words I ever wrote about Wes were: “Day one has come and gone and I survived. Not only survived, I thrived. I absolutely love this place. I can’t believe I’m saying that, but it’s completely true.” It’s funny how telling that became.

Wes became the second place I ever called home. It was a place that sparked a fire in me. A place I found a community of activists & artists, WOCO, a tribe, and a first love. I remember picking Wesleyan for all the most ridonkulous reasons (none of which I would recommend to people making big life decisions – or who cares, do what you want). After academics, my top reasons were:

  • It had the same name as one of my favorite characters (so you know, fate!)
  • The Gilmore Girls made a quaint town in the middle of Connecticut look pretty hilarious
  • It was different from the Bahamas in EVERY way possible (jackpot!)

These were my actual reasons. Literally, in that order. Why do we even let 17 year olds make life decisions? But no one could’ve told me different. When I realized Joss Whedon had gone there, there was no better stamp of approval. I had made the best decision possible using the most ridonkulous criteria possible.

And I’ve never regretted it. For all its pitfalls (poorly-veiled racism, losing classmates to terrible acts of violence, unbridled anxiety, loneliness, tears, and sooo many all nighters) it become home. Complicated, messy and difficult to love at times. But always home. The extraordinary people we survived and thrived with made it that way. Now that I reflect, I’ve realized that it’s incredible how much a place and its people can challenge and change you in a really good way.

Although I couldn’t be at our fifth year reunion this weekend, know that my heart is there.

“It’s interesting because that is the thing that you don’t realize. That there’s something completely artificial about the way college is; the way going away to some experience like that is. You’re together inside this pressure cooker situation for this period of time and under those conditions you get very, very close in ways that you wouldn’t have otherwise. And then it comes just to an end, like you come to a cliff. And it’s just like, okay now it’s over. And when that happens, it’s very powerful.” – Felicity

Grad2011 4

Photo credits: http://wesleying.org/2015/05/24/liveblog-wesleyan-commencement-2015/ and https://www.facebook.com/wesleyan.university/photos/?tab=album&album_id=342993924994

Taking Stock

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I had a great conversation with Marie-Eve a few weeks back. I am so grateful for the friendship we have cultivated. She is a best friend and family in so many ways. As we were talking she offhandedly praised me for really making the best of my time at home. For doing all the things I said I wanted to do: eating better, yoga, making a blog, my video journal, and going natural. It made my heart smile with gratitude. She said I was doing so much better and I looked happy.

That moment was unexpected but so deeply needed.

Truthfully, I’m working my way to happy, but I’m not there yet. I want to be joyful not in spite of anyone or anything, but simply because I am.

I cut my hair off because I needed to feel like I was walking towards change instead of being dragged, for once.

I started yoga because it touches a part of me that needs healing and strength.

I started a video journal because my spirit needs to remember the sweet moments and days as much as my tear ducts remember the hard ones.

I write because the writings of others have literally carried me to salvation.

I want to be a fuller version of myself. For too long I lay broken and shattered across the eastern seaboard, and from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and from monuments to sand dollars. I left shards everywhere I went and I picked up new splinters along the way. Now I’m back in harbour, picking up the pieces, molding a new figure, and breathing life and light to that being. I want to love the person I will become. I want to love her fiercely. I want her to forgive me. And I want to forgive. I want her to set boundaries, healthy ones, and live true. I want her to feel powerful and worthy of all the sweetness this world has to offer. I want her to be imbued with strength, vulnerability, and most importantly, wholeness.

And I want the same for you, whoever you are reading this.

“Don’t let anyone take your magic away. Not even you.” – M 

Becoming

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Be easy.
Take your time.
You are coming
Home.
To yourself

 

– “the becoming | wing” by Nayyirah Waheed

 

Growth can feel tedious, exhausting and unfair at times. Especially when it is punctuated by loss. As I’ve talked about before, no one warns you about the amount of mourning there is in growth. And maybe no one has to…

This poem gives me hope more than anything else. The idea is that as difficult and soul-crushing as growth and change can be, try to be easy on yourself. Treat yourself as kindly as you wished the universe would sometimes. Be compassionate and soothing to yourself in ways you haven’t received from those you trusted. Just know: no amount of warning can change what needs to be experienced.

Know that taking your time is elemental to happiness. Because movement is happening. Even if you feel despairingly stuck. Even if you feel like you’ve diverged from the dream you had for yourself, for love, for your career, for communion with friends. Movement is there, always. You are coming home. And home: home is the purest form of who you need to be in this world and who the world needs you to be. Home is protective and empowering. Home is love that endures.

Home is you.