Thank You for Having the Space For Me
Checking in. How are you?
Hey girl hey! I’m doing great, just really tired from the day. How are you?
That’s great. Girl I been down and out.
Down and out?? Why?
…it’s a whole lot of things for real…
I had just gotten off of work and was on my way home when I got this text. It was from a new friend of mine. We had met at an event a few weeks prior and since then had kept in touch, slowly building our connection. I was fully unprepared for where the direction of our conversation would go, but knew in my spirit that this was an opportunity to be positive influence.
Here was a young woman, much like myself, going through the growing pains of starting over. She had just moved from Chicago and was trying on independence for the first time. She was free to do and go and navigate the big city as she pleased…but she didn’t know how.
As I’m sure is a familiar sentiment with a lot of young adults with dependent family members, she had spent so much of her time taking care of others that she never had the chance to take care of herself. Much less, get to know herself. Therefore, this text was a cry for help. Not necessarily out of desperation, but out of a misconception.
She was lost, still figuring things out, not knowing whether or not she was on the right track. Like a balloon floating in empty space, going everywhere and nowhere at the same time.
So I knew, then, that there were two directions in which this conversation could go: I could simply regurgitate the same generic advice fed to me during my period of transition, or I could give her the truth. My truth. The precise moments leading me like breadcrumbs on a dirt road to a new understanding of myself, and what it really meant to be an adult at my age. It was in telling my story that it hit me; everything that I learned, everything that I experienced, everything that I wrestled with, lead to this moment right here. Right now.
You cannot heal from the same place that made you sick. — Unknown
Our environment has a massive impact on our outlook on life. It shapes our perspective, enables certain behaviors, and is quite telling of who we are in comparison to who we’re trying to be. I was fortunate enough to have been raised in a loving household, with parents who invested in me and a sister who saw me as a confidant and guiding example on what to do (and what not to) as you grow up. I’ve had thus far, however, quite the “adulting” experience. I moved around a lot, changed jobs multiple times, and hosted daily scrimmages between me and imposter syndrome in everything I did.
By moving a lot, I mean moving back and forth between South Carolina and Boston at least four times.
By changing jobs, I mean switching from student employment to temporary employment, to actual full time employment, to a brief stint in freelancing, to independent contracting and now back to full time employment.
By hosting scrimmages, I mean literally fighting to dismantle my internalized beliefs that I am not good enough to do xyz. I’m not a great sister. I’m so wishy washy when it comes to picking a career.
I don’t know what I’m doing.
To an extent, that last one is still true. I really don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know what writing every day is going to lead me to. I don’t know what kind of impact sharing my personal story will have on someone who reads it (if anyone bothers to read it at all). I don’t know what facing up to myfears for longer than a few months feels like. I don’t know what any of this is going to lead up to in the next few days, months, years even.
All I know is what it took for me to get here. What small changes I had to make to really shift my mindset into believing I could rather than couldn’t do something, and what walking into my purpose meant for me. For me. But how could I have known that, if I didn’t really take the time to get to know me? I mean, really get to know me. Like, not only accepting my solitude as a single woman in a big city, but actually enjoying it. Or coming to terms with how long it actually takes to accomplish my creative goals, and being ok with that. Most importantly, what success looks like for…you guessed it.. me!
I underestimated how empowering try (and fail at) a few things, until I actually did it.
And let me tell you, it’s been awesome.
So, that’s what I told my friend. I shared my story of my near spiral into depression working my last job. I told her of the fears that sometimes had me in a chokehold, gripping so tightly in my chest that I’d run at the first sign of struggle. Like her, I did not expect my 20s to be as unpredictable as it had been. There were many nights where I’d lie in bed, staring up into the ceiling and wondering, with tears in my eyes:
Was it a right of passage to be this unhappy? Was I supposed to suffer before I reached my potential? What was the point of it all if this was what it took?
I had hopes of being in a different position than where I was now. I still wish I was in a different position. But, the difference between then and now is that I’m grateful of where I am. Grateful that I kept it pushing. Grateful, that I still had faith.
I appreciate you taking the time to listen to me. I feel like I can do this and I just gotta relax. Thank you so much for having the time and space for me!
My heart was full reading that last text. Our chat shifted into a new conversation after that, but I left that mental space feeling a strong sense of gratitude and humility. I honestly didn’t know how much consolation I could offer; often times it’s easier to put a bandaid on a bleeding issue than get to the root of wound itself. What was especially powerful in that moment was recognizing just how meaningful my personal story was to someone else. My experiences are not just mine alone; they are for others when they need it the most. It was what she needed to hear, and because of what I went through, I was able to deliver.
That, in itself, was something to be proud of.
