What a Difference a Year Makes

A year ago this week, Thursday to be exact, I lost my job. My first position in my field of study, in my favorite city in the US. This position was supposedly the be all and end all of my initial chapter in the real world. I was going to get my feet on the ground in Chicago, I was in on the ground floor of a start-up. I was going to be making bank and kicking ass at life in just a few short months. My then boyfriend was going to move there, we were going to get a kick ass apartment and maybe a dog. We had talked about a family and a house and all the trappings of the happy Upper Middle Class American life.

Yet, when I looked at myself in the mirror…I didn’t know where I was. I was looking at a shell of myself and I didn’t even know it.

A year ago this week, I basically moved home. I couldn’t live in my kick ass little Chicago apartment any more. The only thing I could do when I did force myself to spend a couple nights there was pace. Pacing like a nervous horse in a stall. “what have I done, what will I do, what have I done, what will come next, I can’t take it, I can’t take it, I can’t take it” That was the record on repeat in my head for a month.

I couldn’t even find solace in my then boyfriend, something was wrong. He was distant and unhelpful. I didn’t even recognize this of course because of the loud negative voice in my head. I just threw my issues on him and pleaded for help.

No matter where I turned who I was didn’t fit. It didn’t fit in the world outside of that apartment on Argyle street, but I didn’t fit in that apartment. The problem was I couldn’t see that.

A year ago Thursday I was on an AmTrack home. Crying as silently as I could to not wake the woman next to me, I caught my reflection in the window of the train car. That was the first time I had seen myself in a year. I didn’t know it then, but that was the day it all started.

A few weeks after I moved home, my relationship feel apart. And finally so could I. And a week or two more after that, living in my parents basement, I took up my high school job and proceeded to make popcorn and rip tickets for people I went to high school with. Who were bringing their kids to see movies.

Next, I started manifesting. Then slowly but surely I put my life back together.

You want to know what I learned this year, aside from all of the cliched things, what I really learned was:

If you can look yourself in the mirror and see that little version

of yourself, maybe you at age 8 or 9, you’re on the right track.

I’ve said it before here but I’m going to say it again: Look, life is not about chasing the “I have it all” moment, life is about being in this present moment and saying “This is nice. I think I’ll enjoy this for a while.”
NOT “have it” or “take it” or “want it” but “enjoy it” “experience it” at most “hold it lightly.”

There’s nothing permanent in life,  that doesn’t mean don’t give your job your all, or rent instead of own, or close your heart to love. It means flow with it. Maybe you’ll loose the job, or get a promotion. Maybe you’ll buy the house, or rent it forever. Maybe he’ll leave you, you’ll leave him or maybe you’ll decide to hang around and be a pain in each others asses for eternity. Whatever it is, make sure you don’t lose you in it.


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