What We Miss When We Police Our Happiness
And why we should stop
When I was in my doctoral program, I remember thinking…
“I will be happy when I graduate, move, and start making real money!”
At the time, I was living in a small rural midwest college town in Carbondale, Illinois, where the best places to eat included a sub-par Thai restaurant and a drive-thru Steak ‘n Shake. Locals regularly wore camouflage, which was fitting because it was not uncommon to spot a deer casually crossing the street as though out for a leisurely evening stroll. Many of the residents ascribed to a fairly rigid conservative perspective on government, policy, and social issues and I was often warned to not travel too far beyond city limits, because of rumors that a neighboring city was a sun-down town.
For a woman of color, living by herself, this was terrifying.
I moved to Carbondale from Los Angeles, so you can imagine how traumatic this culture shift was for me. Initially, I knew no one, except for my ex-boyfriend, who I had no contact with at the time. That is a story for a different article.
The first year was agony.
I wrestled with a lack of motivation, feelings of sadness and isolation, and severe homesickness. Not to mention, my father passed away…
