I am the Lone Ranger: pt. 2

I published the previous post because that was a pivotal conversation with my brother. And yet, 4 years later, I still sometimes find myself falling short on imaginary scorecards. So I want to take this post to stand in what I love about myself.

1. I am an emotional human. Although I have felt this as a weakness almost my entire life, I now know that it fuels the immense empathy that I have. I feel "vibes", I "read" rooms and people, and I'm pretty damn accurate. It has helped me excel at work, and make surprising connections with near-strangers. Unfortunately this can also lead me to overthink and read into things that aren't there. It's a balance, but I am grateful.

2. I love and need words. I love finding the perfect word for how I'm feeling, and if someone can't find the word they're looking for, I love helping them. In my romantic relationships I feel most loved when my partner is expressing their love/feelings/appreciation for me through words. But obviously a relationship cannot exist on words alone, so words combined with action make me feel the most safe and secure.

3. I am an observer. I am highly aware of how I spend my energy. I cultivate that energy from solo time, and I spend it wisely. With my empathy and my propensity to go too deep too fast with information about my life, I can quickly become depleted. In middle school Language Arts class I remembered taking a personality quiz where we got "roles" based on how we answered the questions. There were roles that everyone wanted like "Adventurer". A girl at the table told me "I bet you'll be an Observer". And I was, and I resented that because it wasn't the popular option and it rolled off of her tongue with such distaste. But now I realize that I very much am an observer, and it's helped me to be a kind, empathetic human and preserve my energy when needed.

4. I love connection. I know, hot take! But connection and harmony are two of my values. It's always important for me to seek connection in every interaction that I have...and make sure it's genuine. For example, if I'm asking "how are you doing" to anyone I see, I want to remain present and listen to the answer. And if they ask how I'm doing, I try to provide a genuine answer in return before the automatic "Good! You?" comes out. I strive to be present and not distracted. With people close to me I want that comfort of depth and the feeling that I can say anything and be understood and loved (even in spite of what I say). Alternatively, in those relationships I can say nothing at all and feel comfortable. It's as easy as breathing. I love connection so much that I want it to happen quickly, and I get FOMO when I miss out on potential moments of connection. So I need to take a deep breath, realize that connection may not always happen as quickly as I want to (and not with everyone!), and embrace the progression, value and weight of time.

There are more things, but those things are the core things that I've felt insecure about at many points in my life. Always learning, always trying to understand myself a bit better. Thank you for reading, friends.

I am the Lone Ranger.

 2017:

I broke down to my oldest brother on the phone the other day.

I had been on the edge, feeling like I was going to burst but didn't have a release. The timing was better than I could've asked for. We don't normally talk, but he and I had been meaning to catch up for a couple of weeks. Conversation started simple enough...what are you up to, how's the day...and then a simple question asked with a simple and genuine tenderness ripped me wide open. "So how are you doing?"

I was silent for a few seconds, debating on how surface-level I wanted to keep this. But I felt a comfort in saying the words I was about to say to someone I trusted and admired. "I'm struggling." I said, and it was as if those two words were the key to the floodgates. I broke.

Things spilled out of me, a mix of worries and poison and sadness. I didn't feel like a worthy human being, either in work or in life. I set standards for myself that were vague and unreachable, my position felt vague and unreachable, and it drove me down into dark places. People have this opinion of me, that I am good, I am worthy. They feel like just words, because I do not share that opinion...people who say that don't know that I am not good. I am broken. No one is acknowledging that, and in my mind they are mutually exclusive. I can either be good and worthy, or broken and not good enough. My brother gently reminded me that they are not mutually exclusive; we are all broken, no one is perfect. And that there are many rays of sunshine. His listening and measured and thoughtful advice was the quiet strength and safe space I needed to spit out these thoughts that I had not been able to form words for out loud before.

Feelings I wanted grace for continued to tumble out of me. I apologized for being a distant aunt. Not good enough. Not worthy to be a godmother to one of his daughters, because I have also felt so distant in my faith. He listened and said something that went like lightening straight to my heart.

"Katie, you are not falling short on anyone's scorecard."

9 words that addressed how I felt about my life. Falling short on everyone's scorecard. 9 words that both named and began to dismantle that lie I had believed for so long.

I wanted to completely let go and wrap myself in the grace, truth and love that my brother was speaking to me. I wish I had let out more, but I felt like I was losing control of myself and my emotions in front of someone else, and I have a long-standing wall against that. Don't be too much, don't be too vulnerable. Crying is weakness, crying is shame. I'm sorry for being too emotional. I'm sorry for being less than convenient. I'm sorry for sharing the crap that I carry, because your load is probably heavy enough. I'm sorry I'm not strong enough to carry it alone.

I have tried to make myself fit into other people's lives, to make it easy for them to like me because I could adapt to be like them. I would always make the effort if I could, even if they were less than kind. I'd be flexible and tolerant at the expense of my opinions, my values, or my well-being. And I would come to the end of those efforts feeling like a shadow, barely existing.

I'm working on building myself back up, with help. Realizing my worthiness, and that it's not a zero sum game. I am worthy, and you are worthy. I want to cultivate a group of belonging...people who inspire me to be myself, and celebrate that. And vice versa. A true vulnerable community that is there for each other where I don't feel alone in the midst of it. No judgement. I don't really have that now, but I realize that it is built on first recognizing that I am worthy of one.

I want to be done hiding.

Untitled.

She heaved a heavy sigh as the bubbles from the bath curled around her back. She would often sigh like that without even realizing it, as if everything happening in life was built into that sound and that was her only way of releasing the pressure. If anyone was within ear shot, she would usually get a "hey, you ok?" or "yeah, ditto". The heavy, relatable sigh.

It had been an anxiety-filled day. Each hour that she worked was an hour that she wasn't getting paid for, because she had passed her contracted allocation for the week. But things still had to get done. "I'll just take it off of next week, or month," she told herself. But the tightness had already made a home within her chest, and it was not budging. As the clock hit five, she knew she had to force a stop. She closed her laptop, unfolded herself from her position on the couch, and stood up to stretch her unforgiving limbs. She had to do something to ease this tightness.

"Maybe I'll take a bath and journal," she said aloud. In living alone for 6 years she had become used to talking to herself and no one. Oddly enough, this presumed insane behavior actually kept her sane. She wandered into her bedroom and picked up her beautiful floral journal that she had recently gotten at Target. She loves journaling, and picking a new one out for herself after finishing a previous journal is one of her favorite things. It was a big deal; she was going to have this journal for at least a year, maybe more. And all it took was standing in the journal section and waiting for the right one to jump out at her.

Journal in hand, she made her way to the bathroom and turned the water on. Next to the tub was an essential oil labeled "Balance". She unscrewed the cap and smelled it, silently willing the scent to settle her soul. She poured some drops into the tub along with some bubble bath and hoped for the best. She checked her phone: no texts. She had been waiting for a certain name to show up on her screen, but it had apparently been a busy day at work. She set her phone back down on the top of the toilet and stepped gingerly into the tub. As she sank slowly down, she let the shock of the hot water occupy her thoughts for a blessed few minutes. The tightness loosened slightly. She turned to her open journal on the side and began to write.

She stopped after a few minutes, distracted by a buzz from her phone. Her heart jumped, hoping to see his name. She tapped the screen and her heart sank. It was not him. Her anxiety fueled her thoughts: was she texting too often? Did he need a break from talking to her? Was he sick of dating her? Then she took a deep breath and sat back, thinking of all of the reasons why those thoughts are not true. She thought about all of the times that she had anxiously waited for names of certain guys to appear on her phone screen, thinking that she had done wrong or was too much or not enough. And all of a sudden she got incredibly tired. The exhaustion ran bone-deep, revealing the brittleness of these thought patterns and actions that had made up her dating life for so long. She scribbled furiously in her journal, riding the wave of these memories that no longer served her and getting the poisonous thoughts out of her head. When momentum slowed, there was only one word left: enough. Both a command and a statement. She had had enough. She was enough. It was time to create new thought patterns that were rooted in worthiness.

The tightness began to unravel into the water, and she smiled to herself as she breathed in the faint scent of balance.

A series of words. [Part II]

Hi, friends. The words continue. Enjoy!

love hard.

I have so much love to give. Sometimes it can be overwhelming and I temper it. Sometimes I give more than I should to people who don't realize/reciprocate the gift. In the end it's more worth it for me to give love than to hold it back.

appreciate the beauty in everyone.

Everyone has a story. I love letting people surprise me instead of assuming that they're going to be a certain way. This goes for new people as well as people already in my life.

This has also helped me immensely at work; when I humanize coworkers and clients instead of getting endlessly annoyed at them, everyone wins. However, this does not serve as a justification for bad behavior or someone not doing their job; it just helps me approach critical conversations with a holistic perspective.

learn to let go.

Do you know anyone who holds grudges? Or has an insane memory for all of the bad things you do? Not only is it not fun to be around those people at all, but just imagine having to carry around all of that negativity ALL OF THE TIME. It has to get exhausting, right? So when speaking to smaller things, I recommend working to make peace and let things go for the sake of your own sanity and well-being.

Speaking to letting go in a bigger sense, there is no formula or timeline for this, as it changes from person to person. I would say just take the time that you need, because healthy endings lead to healthy beginnings.

rest in love and peace.

Right now I'm sitting on the balcony in the sunshine. Rest. So important to take any moments that you can. Right now in this quarantine, I'm sure there are a lot of moments for it! Hopefully you find yourself getting a recharge and connecting more with loved ones virtually.

delight in tiny moments.

I took a bike ride today for the first time in at least a year. I rode through the neighborhoods (road biking intimidates me) and I found myself smiling as I was coasting down a hill. "Race you to the bottom of the block!" my memory said, summoning the days of old when my friends and I would ride around the neighborhood all day, showing off our no-hands riding skills and sweet streamers. Delight.

empower yourself each day.

When the days stretch out like this, it can be hard to find motivation. A routine, for me, is very empowering. But with a built-in routine gone, how do we find structure? Having been working from home for almost a year now (crazy!), I would recommend creating tiny anchors in your day that indicate at the very least a starting point and stopping point from a work perspective. You can also focus on doing a little bit of something each day that helps you feel productive...do some exercise, pick up that guitar, draw some pictures, wash some dishes or do some laundry. Something else that's empowering for me is getting dressed, even if I'm not going anywhere. Those are just a few things that keep me sane.

persevere no matter what.

Stay at home. Take care of yourself. Take it day by day. We'll get there. <3 p="">
Until next time, friends.

A life without FOMO.

How are you guys holding up?

Gratitude has been a common theme for me. Grateful for a job. For virtual morning coffee dates and nighttime drink dates. For being able to still get outside for a walk. For teletherapy. For Instant Pots and weighted blankets, and exercise videos on YouTube. For Netflix. For the amazing things that people are doing during this time and the creative ways people are contributing to the well-being of others. I'm currently listening to a beautiful livestream of the lead singer of Young the Giant, Sameer Gadhia, on Twitch. It's these tiny moments that help string together what feels like endless days.

Another pro: this is probably the closest we'll get to no FOMO, or fear of missing out. An interesting thought.

Years ago, I chose some of my favorite words, wrote them together, and framed them. One day I decided to write out phrases to go with these words, and I found them in my photo album last night. It made me smile. Instead of sharing these words with you in one big chunk, I'd like to break them up into a few posts and add some context about what they mean to me and why I chose the phrases that I did.

awaken to the call inside of you.

I wrote these words in 2015, but I have felt the most awake this past year. Leaving my job was the biggest decision I made to move closer to what I wanted to do with my life, but I've also made other decisions that have brought me closer and closer to where I need to be.

Speaking specifically to this unique time in life with the pandemic, I've woken up from routine. Things that I've always expected would be there are either limited or no longer there. Loved ones are directly impacted. I need to be on my game to help. We all need to be.

thrive right now.

I've always loved the word "thrive". In reading it I can immediately sense the meaning...not just living, not just getting by, but living life from the heights to the depths. Feeling everything, moving through everything, and coming out more sure of who you are on the other end.

reflect on how far you've come.

When I really sit and think about it, I am blown away at how far I've come over the years. I consistently feel more settled in myself with each passing year and each experience. I remember the days where the unknown scared me immensely...it was easier to follow others and take on their opinions because I was afraid to risk making people uncomfortable by being myself. I was afraid to ask questions, afraid of being wrong, and afraid of being an outsider. I still have those fears pop up occasionally, but I have tools to work them back down and re-wire them to better thoughts.

explore what it means to be YOU.

I'm a fan of self-reflection, but having this intense period of solo time is showing me new things even still. I'm trying to take those things, sit on them, and then work towards ways to be a better version of myself.

play every single moment.

It's so important to remember to play, especially as adults. That's why I love being around children; they show you what it means to be unrestrictedly joyful. When I was in Jamaica for a mission trip in college, we went to a school in a town called Friendship and played games with the children. I just remember being so amazed at how many games they could come up with by just linking hands in a giant circle. It was the most fun I had had in a long time. In this time of quarantine, playing can look like using goofy filters on FaceTime calls, photoshopping faces onto funny pictures, or playing games with friends on video calls. I'm trying to seek out more of these opportunities.

experience true love.

Love has always been on my brain. Apparently, according to a survey I took for an online course recently, it is my #1 signature strength. I've always valued close relationships with others and tend to make them a priority in decision-making. This unfortunately has also brought me to many relationships and friendships where I lost myself and got absorbed in others. For so long I focused on what I needed to be on a person-by-person basis, making myself a chameleon to changing whims, but in the last year I've focused more on who I want to be as a complete person, an authentic friend and a true partner. It's a constant learning experience but I feel like that's how it should be; I always want to be looking for ways to be the best version of myself.

listen for the unspoken.

I am a grade-A listener. Additionally I am a highly sensitive person and can feel the energy and tension of a room when I walk into it. This is a pro and a con, because often this keeps me from being truly myself regardless of what others may think. For example, if I sense someone is uncomfortable, I will refrain from potentially contributing anything to the conversation/situation that would make that person feel even more uncomfortable. This is something that I'm working on balancing better. That said, listening in general is so important. You don't miss what someone might not be saying.

inspire everyone's best self.

When you truly appreciate someone for who they are, they shine. I've seen this time and time again at work while I was training, mentoring and managing, and with friends when I've called out things that I've noticed about them that I really appreciate. I love all of the people I surround myself with and I want to make sure they know that consistently.

Love to you, friends. Thanks for reading.

Heart things. [Part III]

A lot of things to say this month, which is a nice change after feeling dormant for awhile. I wanted to continue the theme of "heart things", since today is the holiday of the heart. A lot of people have very strong opinions about Valentine's Day, but I've always loved it as a reminder to show a little extra love to the people in your life. I've only spent 3 Valentine's Days with significant others, so the day has always been characterized by showing love to my friends, family and coworkers. I miss the days where you'd go and pick out valentines to hand out, excitedly picking themed ones with your favorite pattern/color/cartoon character/movie character. I'd know immediately which ones I wanted to give to my best friends (the biggest one with the best saying) and which ones I'd probably give to the people I didn't get along with very well in class (without being too mean). Throughout my career I still liked to get little valentines for my coworkers, just to brighten the day.

This year I'm without coworkers, but that's ok. I still received lovely texts, sent some of my own, and wore a pretty red shirt.

Happy heart things:

• A St. Bernard puppy named "Garbanzo" exists
• My friend asking me to be background vocals and guitar in live performances of his upcoming album (more on this in a later post, because this is SUPER exciting for me!)
• Running into a local on the street today and getting a potential new freelance gig from it
• Sweet texts
• Excitement, intention and consistency
• Feeling heard
• When a smile gets stuck on your face
• "You Make My Dreams" by Hall & Oates
• Gifts from friends
• New adventures ahead

May you be aware of all of the love in your life today and always, friends. Happy Valentine's Day!

[More] heart things.

I felt like a follow-up was needed after my previous post...

1.) I PASSED! I passed the aPHR. It was actually pretty funny because at the end of the test there was a notice that said "results will come in 24 to 48 hours", so I was like...cool. Not today. And then I left the testing center and they gave me a paper that I promptly folded up and put in my pocket so that I could leave as quickly as possible. I'm texting everyone saying "yeah I don't know how I did, hopefully alright but there were some vague questions. We'll see." Fast forward about an hour and a half. I finally think to myself "oh, I wonder what that paper was". So I look at this paper and the very first paragraph says "Congratulations! You've passed the exam!" Hahaha. If only I would've paid more attention to what was right in front of me. Regardless, I'm excited and some next steps are in the works.

2.) My heart is still beating. Irregularly, but that's normal. I actually had a very strange experience with both the cardiologist and the nurse, and will probably try to find somewhere else to go after my upcoming tests. Results on my condition are unknown until then, basically. Patience.

I had a lovely "Galentine's Day" dinner with some friends tonight, and it was so good to see them after so long. And so strange, because my life was the hot topic of conversation and it's changed a lot since I've seen them. I learned some things that were hard to hear. And I said some things that were hard to say. Regardless, I stayed true to who I was and still am. But processing the conversation after getting home was emotional for me and I'm so glad that I'm going to bed.

Life is just so weird. And lovely. And heart-wrenching, and thought-provoking, and terrifying, and often wonderful. I'm grateful to be living it.

Night, friends.

Heart things.

I have a lot on my mind.

One...I have an exam tomorrow. If I pass, I will be aPHR-certified and have a foundation to apply to HR jobs. The problem is that I haven't been able to fully invest in studying, so I don't feel as confident as I want to. But I've made peace if I don't pass and will cross that bridge when I get to it.

The sub-thoughts: is HR still for me? Do I need to go back to school?

Two...I have a cardiologist appointment on Monday. This is where I get a new baseline on my heart condition that I've had since I was a baby. I received my old medical records from my previous cardiologist today, and reading through them brought back the reality of my condition. At some point I will have to get a heart valve repaired or replaced. I may have to have the hole in my heart closed so that I can breathe at full capacity while exercising. I will have to be hyper-vigilant if I ever decide to have children. I am so grateful that my condition is mild, so I haven't felt too many of the effects growing up. But recently I've been more aware of my limitations, and there is the fear of the unknown of where I sit now.

The sub-thoughts: I am getting older and this is terrifying.

Three...I have resolved to define the ground that I want to stand on. I am tired of being a chameleon.

No sub-thoughts on that one. Just determination.

There is a poem that I received today, and a lot of it spoke to my heart. I'd love to share it in case all or parts of it may speak to yours.

The Invitation

by Oriah Mountain Dreamer, Indian Elder

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals, or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it. I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, or to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true, I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul.

I want to know if you can be faithful and therefore trustworthy. I want to know if you can see beauty, even when it is not pretty every day, and if you can source your life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours or mine, and still stand on the edge of a lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes!"

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done for the children.

It doesn't interest me who you are, or how you came to be here - I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away. I want to know if you can be alone with yourself, and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

The sub-thoughts: That. I want to be that. I want to seek that.

Take care, friends.

A lesson in being myself.

Empathy. Learned as a young girl in a large, chaotic, varied family. Words weren't really given to emotions, so I had to watch and observe. Smiles and laughter = good. Frowns, yelling, tears = bad. Without much context I filled in the gaps, and honed that over the years until it made me really good at imagining, anticipating and predicting how people might feel in certain situations. Almost too good; I often fill in gaps that aren't there and create stories in my mind that can cause more emotional distress than it is sometimes worth. But overall I'm thankful to be empathetic.

The one thing I didn't count on was how much I learned to factor myself into that context of "good" or "bad" in others' experiences. Whether in a friendship or relationship, I like to think that I'm contributing to that person's overall quality of life in a (hopefully) positive way. That's what I look for in my friendships and relationships, at least. So when I'm spending extended time with someone (dating, for example) and they're unhappy, it's really hard for me not to take that personally. For me, the person I'm dating has a direct impact on my mood, so I can only assume it's similar for others. Even if I'm not the cause of a negative mood, I'm clearly not helping make it more positive and that makes me feel pretty useless.

I read a quote the other day from Will Smith that was a good reminder for me:

"You cannot make a person happy... You can make a person smile. You can make a person feel good. You can make a person laugh. But, whether or not a person is happy is deeply and totally and utterly out of your control."

I wish I could say that I've figured out the magic formula that enables me to be completely neutral in these situations and create the perfect emotional distance while still being a great friend and partner. Unfortunately, I don't think I'm wired that way. Even as an adult I still get caught up in needing to watch and observe in order to say the "right" thing to avoid the "bad". But what I'm trying to do is prioritize myself more in relationships, anticipate/predict less, and focus more on my happiness and well-being instead of letting it be dictated by others' actions, interests and moods. Because life is too short to bend over backwards for people that would not do the same for me. It's too short to scramble for the scraps of emotion, empathy and investment that others will throw out occasionally. Better to put that energy into the other awesome people you're surrounding yourself with.

G'nite, friends.

New year, new you.

Happy New Year, friends.

I've been trying to post on here for the last month and have about 100 drafts. Or maybe 6, but still. Half-finished poems, entries and thoughts. But I wanted to write something for the first day of a new decade. 2019 is over and 2020 is here. Wow. Looking back not only on the last year but the last 10 years has blown me away. I decided to reactivate my Facebook for a hot second and look through old pictures. All I can say is...damn. What powerful, visual reminders of who I was, where I've been and where I am now. I had visceral reactions to those photos.

The last 10 years have marked my college graduation and foray into the real world, the beginning (and changing journey) of my career, 99% of my dating history, my struggles and victories with self and body image, my faith journey, and more. The biggest visual for me was realizing that 10 years ago, I would photoshop most of my pictures because I didn't like how I looked. In the picture on the left below, I did exactly that. And I look at that girl with tenderness and am just so incredibly thankful not to be in that headspace anymore. I feel more "me" with each and every year, and I'm really liking how it feels. I'm excited for what 2020 will bring: more of unfiltered, un-photoshopped me.

That's it for now. Keep an eye out for some drafts to be posted. :)

November.

There were three responses to my previous post, and they meant the world to me. Reminders that people are still listening, even when I feel like I'm screaming into the void. Thank you to those people from the bottom of my heart.

It's a strange season right now, and after waiting for someone to tell me that I'm living the life that I'm supposed to be living, I realized that I just need to live it. I was journaling in the coffee shop up the street the other day and tiny dreams started to poke through...things like pick up French again and travel to France to test out the language. Write meaningful things for both myself and others, whether it's poetry, haikus or general thoughts. Learn how to write songs. Paint more watercolor paintings. Maybe try bouldering again or go on a solo yurt trip. And maybe the most dramatic...build an actual routine.

I realize that I am living most people's dream: no 9-5. I never pictured my life like this, and I am simultaneously grateful for it and terrified by it. My brain chimes in: "you weren't meant for this life! This is meant for someone with a lot of money to travel and someone who doesn't want to be owned by 'the man'! You're not creative or adventurous enough!". It's been interesting combatting these stories, because obviously they're not true but they've revealed my thoughts on this freelance life. And even though I feel like this won't be forever, it's where I am now and I'm opening my mind to new, unconventional possibilities.

One thing that has been extremely difficult is lack of connection with people. I am part introvert but also thrive on genuine interaction with other people, so my freelance schedule and my breakup have left me to my own devices. In addition to my lovely friends that I get to see, my community has turned into the baristas, bartenders and shopkeepers that I try to come in regular contact with. I'm grateful for all of these moments of connection and also seeking more consistency here.

One day at a time.

Unremarkable.

It's been a rough week, to say the very least.

Tonight, I decided to walk to First Friday on Tennyson. For those of you who aren't familiar, it's one of 6 main art walks held throughout Denver on the first Friday of every month. Sometimes with food, sometimes with music, always with cool art. I pictured the night in my mind: I'd get there early, catch happy hour at a bar, browse some shops, maybe see some artwork. Ideally I would've loved some company but it was one of those nights where everyone had plans (what was it, Friday night or something?). I embarked on my journey alone, determined to have some good solo time.

I approach Tennyson and look up happy hours on my phone like a good, proactive millennial. West End Tap House is on the list. I pause and think back to a memory during summer of last year, where I went to First Friday with a friend and walked into West End. I was not intending to run into a guy I had been dating for nearly 2 months...on a date with someone else. It was pretty devastating for me. But I had worked through it and had found a much better relationship afterwards, so I figured it was time for a redemption trip for some new memories. Well, it was fairly packed. A waitress told me "sit anywhere you'd like!" and so I navigated to a spot at the end of a picnic table outside. People were chatting around me, almost wary of the lone girl at the end of the table; like the desire to go somewhere solo was a disease they didn't want to catch. I shuffled through apps on my phone.

Unfortunately the people were more aware of me than the waitresses. 15 minutes later, after what felt like an eternity of eye contact and solid awkwardness but no interaction, I decided to leave. On my way out, the same waitress who directed me to find a seat anywhere also made way for me to leave. I told her that no one had come and helped me, and she tried to figure out where I was sitting. I told her, and she apologized, and then I said "it's okay, I'm just going to go somewhere else" and walked off. I was almost in tears. Startled by this reaction, I tried to figure out why it was so emotional for me.

Because I was ignored and forgotten. Insert old, familiar stories: I am unremarkable, I am forgettable, I am not worthy of time and attention. I don't belong here, and everyone knows.

It always bothers me when bar staff or servers don't take notice of me when I've been standing/sitting there for a bit. It doesn't happen extremely often but in a busy bar, I feel like I am the last to get noticed. I'm unassuming, my voice blends into the background, and I look like a person who can wait for 50 other people to be helped ahead of me. I resent this a lot. At 30, I'm still working on how to handle this.

So I nearly cried as I walked a couple of shops down to another bar. Thankfully I had a better experience there with prompt and friendly service. But as I was walking home tonight it hit me again, and what was even worse was that the person I would call to talk these kinds of things out with is no longer available to me. I am alone. I remain forgotten.

Sometimes, we're just in the thick of it. It's dark, it's messy, and there's not much ahead that we can see. I don't have a story yet of "oh, this was really awful but then this wonderful thing happened and it all worked out!". In the midst of this bleakness I have to hang on to tiny moments, like the kindness of a bartender or a smile from a stranger or the warmth of the fall sunshine. The heartiness of chili paired with elbow noodles and the sweetness of red wine from a friend. Tiny tethers pulling me to life and meaning, one moment at a time.

This moment, I am finishing typing out this post to either someone or no one. But I am okay, in this moment. And I hang on to that.

Goodnight, friends.

"Texting through sweaty and tired eyes"

I sit here listening to the sounds of the street outside, and take a glance at my new succulents. I know they say succulents are easy, but I've unfortunately killed 3 of them already. Please don't judge me. Or do, because I probably shouldn't be a plant owner. Hoping that the 4th time is a charm!

I'm reflecting on tidying. I've recently read The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up by Marie Kondo, and I liked it! I wasn't ready to read it when the rest of the world read it, but then I quit my job and had to stare at my messy apartment day after day. I got tired of stuff piling up and decided enough was enough when I came across it at the library.

(I probably shouldn't mention that I did not start reading it until we were driving back to the library to turn it back in. In a dramatic moment, I decided to keep it and continue to read it. It is currently overdue...sorry library.)

I started with clothes as directed, and prepared to tackle bags and bags of clothes that I also had stored away in my closet to donate "later". I threw them all in a towering pile, decided what sparked joy (or something similar), and thanked the ones that served me well. 15 bags of donations later (?!), I feel lighter.

My real goal for tidying was mental clarity. I was hoping to have a "eureka!" moment as that last bag hit the donation bin; as if magically I would feel comfortable about my life and confident in my next steps. But, unfortunately it didn't work like that. Although I've definitely felt a difference and will likely continue to as I clean out things that are no longer needed, I've still been in a bit of a haze. Since leaving work in March, I've felt empowered and relieved. But also, lost. My work identity was solid, whereas my identity outside of work was not so solid.

My work identity was confident. Assertive. Whenever I saw a need, I addressed it quickly and efficiently. I've always done well at my jobs and I've almost always gotten what I needed from people just by figuring out the necessary way to ask for it. There were roles, rules, and structure, and tangible ways to get from A to B. I liked that and thrived in that.

I happily let my identity outside of work be engulfed by others whenever possible, and usually those that were in close proximity. I'm thankful to be dating someone who doesn't let me be engulfed, but it's also forced me to really figure out myself apart from everyone else. I'm still working that out, but it's feeling more solid day by day. I'll probably have further learnings to share at a later point.

So, there's not really a conclusion to this post. I haven't reached a point of stability or clarity, but I have new succulents and clean closets and room to breathe and figure it out. I have people who love me and encourage my growth and my new career path. I have coffee with vanilla and oat milk. I learn new things from both my physical therapist and my emotional therapist. It's not 100 degrees out right now. Gratitude is a wonderful thing.

Thanks for reading, friends.

Wake Up.

Wake up.
Life isn't what you thought it would be.
You've been living in a bubble, seeing only what you want to see.
Seeing only what you need to see to keep the peace.

Dig deep with friends and leave family shallow.
A history kept under wraps
But you knew it was bad.
So you had to be good, to be better. To be wanted. To be easy.
Easy, like the past never was.

Follow instructions. To this assignment. To life.
Let others keep to themselves, don't ask the hard questions.
Friend to all,
Yet a stranger to yourself.
People like you better when you
reflect them back to themselves.
Don't rock the boat.
Don't be unlikeable.
Discard yourself for others.
Easy.
Until it's not, and you realize that someone made those up.
Who made these instructions, anyway?
Wake up.

30.

I turn 30 this week. I don’t even know how to register that sentence...age now takes a different form in my mind. Instead of future years being compartments with defined contents, endings and beginnings, they are now fluid. You can do things at 25 that you “should’ve” done at 21. You can be 29 and feel like you’re 18...and simultaneously 40. There’s no limit to the things you can and can’t do at most any age (law permitting, of course).

Last year I was at a formal manager meeting for work where we did an icebreaker, and had to say one important thing we’ve learned up until this point in life. I was the youngest in the room by at least 5 years and was wondering what my contribution would be. I get anxiety having to speak off-the-cuff in groups and while they were moving down the line there were varied answers of “don’t be afraid”, “take chances” and “follow your dreams”; my mind was swimming with thoughts.

"What will they think?"

"Will this make sense?"

"Is this too deep for 9:30am on a Thursday?”

In the end, I overcame the internal struggle and answered, “one of the most important things I’ve learned is that the older I get, the less I know. Life has been a consistent unraveling of everything I ever thought I knew”.

Oof. Did I mention it was 9:30am on a Thursday?

Looking back, to soften the perceived grimness I probably could’ve tied it up with “...life has been a consistent unraveling of everything I ever thought I knew...and creates chances to weave my own patterns.” But as they say, hindsight is 20/20 right?

I got a few surprised looks and a few thoughtful “hmmms” and “ohhhs” and nods. A brief moment where the statement sunk in for reflection...and then they moved to the next person. There was no visible “a-ha!” moment for any of my colleagues, but I felt the satisfied feeling of going with my grain and saying what I needed to say. It was true; the script of life had been rewritten in my mind as I deconstructed certain pillars of success and life progress. Perhaps I'll write on these pillars soon. At my age I did feel like I knew less, but I felt wiser and more confident in what I did know, and more open to the unknown.

That trend of unraveling continues; this year it was my faith. I confronted what I grew up with and how disconnected I felt from it, and I began asking myself the questions that I had either never thought to ask or had been too afraid to answer for myself previously. I have no conclusions, but I have the start to something that feels more solid and “with my grain” than the starter set of my childhood. I anticipate that it will be an ongoing journey, and I am excited to make it my own.

This morning I was talking to the barista at the coffee shop down the street and he said "how does it feel to be turning thirty?", as if bracing himself for my outburst of tears or outrage or subtle desperation at another year gone by. I just replied "I don't know!"...and then, with a smile, "I like getting older". How am I supposed to feel? Would I want to wake up as my 13-yr-old self, a la Jennifer Garner? Probably not. Aside from the physical reminders of hard hangovers, back pain and creaky knees, I don’t know how else I’ll feel the delineation of 30. But one thing I do know is that I do like getting older, because each year I know myself better and become a better friend to myself. And I will always look forward to that.

Thanks for reading, friends :)