Change in my life has always seemed to be nothing less than disheartening. Being a very this or that // black or white kind of person, if there’s a change in life it means there’s division as well – if one facet of life needs to come in as soon as possible it’s clearly a sign to push something already existing and not nearly as valuable right out the door to make room for it, right!? The manic sets in, the dance of musical chairs of morals, ideas, things, people, places I’ve held in my life continues on and on to make room for something different.
There are those who have endured trauma and have thrived in shedding the skin of who they thought they’d always be to transition into claiming the space of the person they always knew they could be, the small warrior inside them and all of us all who prevailed, apparently, all of a sudden. No, really – when listening intently for these people to speak, desperately trying to find answers in their struggle, many said but one thing: It just kind of happened.
Angry, I found this to be incredibly unhelpful; I have suffered, and now I learn there is no answer to it?
And then… It happens to you.
I’m not gonna sit here and say that one day I opened my eyes and realized all of my troubles were gone and they’ll never come back (and if I ever insinuate that, I will gladly send you my address so I can be promptly punched right in the mouth); there is no curing what we battle and there certainly is no forgetting what doing so has taught us.
But one day, you might wake up and wonder why you being 2 minutes late to an appointment doesn’t send you into a nervous, screaming frenzy anymore. A well-intended word no longer drives you spiraling to the brink of mental insanity and pushing the limits of what little self-esteem you had left, instead you may even just laugh. There is no dance of musical chairs, no manic red lights blaring in your head – everything you want to stay can, everything that needs to leave is bid farewell in peace.
You understand, with constant uncertainty, that everything within you that previously felt empty feels aligned; the beetle in your brain doesn’t tick as loudly and you can (seemingly) suddenly love with more warmth than you ever had the knowledge to before.
Seeing all of the lessons you’ve learned come to fruition is mind-blowing in that the part of you that controlled you, that you know more intimately than anything else in the universe has now vanished and you’re left with no real sense of direction. When you stare what you can only imagine is this 2.0, unveiled version of yourself and try to grapple with the concept that what you see may be the life that lies ahead, you have a lot of questions. It seems to me now, in this exact moment in my life, the most important is this:
And I suppose the answer is as it’s always been: endure, thrive, and finally live.
Let’s do it then, shall we?