November 5th, 2016
What a shit-storm of two weeks I’ve just survived! The main thing I’ve gained from the mess? I’m a frickin beast! While my natural tendency goes to self-deprecation and self-criticism, I have to say that the fire has proven to reveal a flippin’ warrior who can persevere through the worst.
Perseverance for me has always been touchy. Being the fairy that I am, when shit gets tough, I usually strap on my running shoes and bolt. But after recognizing how much I’m capable of, it suffices to say that I’ve grown a bit. Facing the reality of my complicated marriage and difficult work life, I’m settling into removing the unnecessary pressure I’ve placed on myself for too many friggin years. Yes, I may be pushing thirty, feel that peculiar maternal clock ticking, and feel that I’ve accomplished very few things that I’d hoped to by this time- but I realized that my time line is my own. I do not have to subject myself to society’s stupid fucking expectations of what a woman pushing 30 should do (in the words of my mother. Thanks, mom.)
There were a few things that I needed to take action toward this week to implement this newfound awakening. First of all, I had to let go of a toxic, four-year friendship. Second, I had to own my skills and confront my supervisors on what I believed to be a shitty business decision. And third, I stopped trying to force myself into feeling or doing things in my marriage simply for the sake of keeping things “good”. Basically, after a week of hell, I realized that people pleasing was causing the biggest distress in my life and I, alone, was responsible for changing things.
While the world has all its rules and expectations about how people should live their lives, it’s truly the rebels that live outside of the box and do meaningful things. It’s the rebels that challenge the systems and confines of traditional thinking that make an impact on the worlds they leave behind.
It occurred to me that if I want to live a life that matters, I absolutely cannot use the measuring stick of modern American life against my own; for example, being a consumer of a life I can’t truly afford is a sticky web I want to avoid at all costs. Living without a car is inconvenient at times, but it also means living without a car payment, insurance, gas, and parking expense. Sharing a run-down studio apartment with my husband is a bitch at times- but we also pay nearly half of what our friends with the same income do. These are all simple examples of rebellion that dwell on lifestyle, but then, most of my concerns about the future and identity have been connected to performance and some illusive ideal of status.
If I am ever to live the life I imagine; enjoying the pleasure of running my own business, building incredible wealth so I have to option to retire at 50 if I’s like, and living out intimate relationships built on vulnerability and brave trusting, I must first embrace the journey and learn to challenge what needs to be confronted. That is what your twenties are for, right? Learning what the fuck you want, what you can and cannot control, and face the fears that threaten to suffocate your dreams to death….oh, and taking action toward what you learn. Otherwise, what you learn doesn’t mean shit.
So here I am! Do you see me? I’m a fearless be-atch and I will leave my imprint on this planet! Or maybe I’ll just leave a few imprints on the lives in my world. I’m ok with either. As long as I live free from the confines of a plastic reality.