A Year of Defiance
Today is the first of July. And it’s the first day of my year of defiance. I debated if it should be “the” year of defiance or just “a” year, but let’s be honest, it’s highly probable I’m going to go rogue again at some point so no need to take future opportunities to be rebellious off the table just yet.
Why am I doing this, you might ask? The past year has been one of serious change. I’m not talking like I got a puppy and became a redhead change, I’m talking total life overhaul change. Since last June…
- My grandmother, who was my icon, passed away.
- I left a job where I had a family and took a job where I want to kill people…violently.
- I became AMA (for those of you who don’t know what that means, essentially my eggs are dying a loud, painful death and everyone feels entitled to incessantly ask when I’m going to be with child.)
- I got engaged.
- I got married. In a surprise wedding. BEST. THING. EVER!
- I sold my house. Don’t even get me started on the word “appraisal”.
- I went back to school. Again. I did that last one when I thought I’d be bored…hysterical laughter.
- Aaaaand, my new husband who was stationed one place got stationed another place and we picked up everything and moved to that new place which is kinda sorta not like my old place at all but with less friends.
Essentially, I’m a bit out of sorts.
BUT, I’m fairly certain this is one of those life moments that is totally orchestrated by the Divine and meant to shake your shit up. So I’m not going to waste it. I’m going to embrace it and rodeo ride that bitch like the wild boar it is! (I have no idea what that means, but it sounds like something my husband would say, and he’s usually right about these things.)
Because here’s the rub…I want to be furiously happy.
Jenny Lawson writes an amazing book with this title, which I totally pilfered and will apologize for only if she tries to sue me. Because even though her book is about mental illness and I don’t think I’m quite there yet, I do think this is our collective goal. And I’m convinced defiance is the only way I’m getting there.
I’ve almost never done things the easy way. My husband is most assuredly my one shining example of allowing life to bless you with its abundance when it’s good and damn ready, but short of that “go with the flow” decision, I’m pretty much a salmon. I swim upstream.
But in my current state, I am seriously OVER swimming. That shit is HARD! And I’ve finally figured out that defiance, at least my defiance, doesn’t require swimming at all. My defiance is more about boldly telling the universe that I don’t know exactly what I want, but it ain’t this. It’s unearthing a voice (ie. this blog) to describe the private maelstrom that I struggle to articulate. It’s giving myself the space to dabble and the permission to fail.
This blog is the chronicle of my journey of defiance. So let me be entirely clear when I say that this is about me, for me. I mean, it’d be cool and all if someone besides my mom reads this, but I can’t promise there will be anything in here for anyone but me. And defiance demands I keep it that way.
To that end, the only rules are that I be honest and that I not tell stories that aren’t mine to tell. At some point, I’m bound to hurt someone’s feelings, offend an entire ethnic group, and generally piss off humanity, so no point making promises I can’t keep. I’m going to try to tell the story of this journey in my own voice, which often includes lots of cussing and words that would totally not stand up in Scrabble, but which also reflects a tender, thoughtful, frequently consultative soul just trying to figure itself out.
So, I guess this is the beginning. It’s day 1 of month 1. Nothing to do now but get to day 2.
Next time, on Year of Defiance…massive stuff overhaul! I’m so over quantity, and I’m not even sure I know what quality is, but I want it.
(Did that sound like a soap opera trailer? I’ve always wanted to be in a soap opera…okay, not really, I’ve just always wanted Shemar Moore to walk around my house shirtless. #guiltyconfession)
It’s a year. It’s a calling. It’s a need. It’s a passion. It’s my life. It’s defiance.