Why 2018 was my year.
…Because I said so.
I’m not even kidding, when the clock struck midnight that December of 2017, I decided it was time for a change. Not that I ever made any efforts on New Year’s resolutions, as a matter of fact I should have gone on a diet since 2002, been more proactive since 2010 and got a boyfriend since 2015. Needless to say, I didn’t succeed in any of them (yet). So that night I decided that if something had to change it was definitely my mindset. Because truth is, if deep down you don’t believe things can change, they won’t. Ever.
When I came back home in December 2017 I was in pitch black pit, one of those from where digging your way out requires a goddamn willpower and I never really mastered this art (yet). I was wandering around like a stray cat for half of the day and the only thing that kept me from crying the other half was that I was busy eating (you can’t do both together, you’ll choke). And then my brother came to the rescue offering to work part time at his restaurant. It still makes me chuckle thinking he meant it as a way to kill some time, while I honestly felt that was my lifeboat. Saved by sandwiches filled with gluten, ah the irony.
Anyway.
I spent that January realising how little I’m suited to work behind a cashier and how great I am at talking with strangers. And I was doing that because it kept my mind busy, not thinking how disappointing I was with myself for not getting a job after 2 months of hard search (yep for some reason I believed that 2 months of rejections meant I was failing at life. I’m learning how to deal with it). So when February came and with it my very first job in advertising, I took it without thinking twice, partly because I got too excited, partly because I was getting scared. Scared that I was adapting to my old self so fast and that I was lulling in my comfort zone once again, with no challenges, no rush, no pressure (yeah okay, the sweat I got from giving the wrong rest to a client doesn’t really count). That’s why when Berlin called me back, I jumped on a plane without really pondering the offer, for once I went for the guts. Which unexpectedly turned out to be a good choice for a couple of months until it wasn’t anymore (oh give us a break would you? I feel you, give me a minute).
When I left Nerds, I started groping into the darkness (metaphorically and literally, I had no lamp on my nightstand), bumping here and there against shelves, drawers, walls and occasionally people. It wasn’t really my concept of fun. I had a lot of time to give myself some really intense pep talks and none of them was really enlightening. I looked for myself everywhere, mostly in the fridge but I had to stop that because you know too much energy got wasted and my cheese almost went bad because of long minutes of warm air (cheesus, that’s a crime). I gave my ceiling a couple of hours staring everyday, hoping it would give me some sign but the best that came out of it was a lost fly who kept me awake all night long. I started doubting myself and my skills a lot, even though I had no real reason to. I couldn’t see where I was going or what was I good at, and the more time I spent talking to myself the less I could understand which switch could turn on the light again. So I decided to do what I can do best: talking to people. Asking questions, stalking strangers (sorry not sorry), forcing myself to attend meet ups alone (ah those dreadful small talks) to get myself out there and find some direction.
Do you believe that things happen for a reason? I do.
I realised now that following my gut feeling all the way back to Berlin was just the beginning (that’s what I maybe naively want to believe), but back then I mistook it for the finish line. Because if I hadn’t come back, I wouldn’t have had the chance to realise what I like to do, what I’m willing to accept and what is better to give up. And if I hadn’t reached that point of being completely lost, then I wouldn’t have found another way out of that hole. Because yes I was still down there, but I didn’t know.
So for one reason or the other, the wind brought me to Ironhack ( wind sounds more poetic than Google search). I’m not saying it was destiny, but man if it felt right. UX design made me discover so much about my strengths (hard worker, stubborn, creative mind, copywriter, empathetic af) as much as my limits (hard worker, stubborn, creative mind, copywriter, empathetic af. Yep they work both ways.) I couldn’t be happier than having sweated to this point (it was amazing but not really what you call “a cakewalk” ). I can tell you now that Ironhack has been my lifeboat, life vest, coastguard and all of the above. They gave me knowledge, confidence, friends, support, and most importantly trust. And all I asked them was to turn me into a good UX/UI designer (which I am, by the way).
To sum it up: 2018 has been an emotional rollercoaster, but every slap and stumbling block along the way lead me here, eating gluten (because we never really learn from our mistakes, if you think the opposite you’re lying to yourself) and writing this article about why this year was my year. It was. Because now I know where to go.
So bring it on 2019, I can talk my way out of (almost) anything.
