2016 changed me
2017 broke me
2018 opened my eyes
2019 I’m coming back
Within two weeks, I came out personally to my parents and close friends, facing unknowns that I’d avoided for over half my life. Demons called out – “They won’t love you anymore.” I entered a period of flux, re-inventing my fashion, discovering new hobbies, meeting other lesbians and hearing their stories. I refer to this period as my true adolescence. It wasn’t as fun as it might sound. Think about it: you probably went through adolescence surrounded by peers who felt just as awkward and ugly as you felt. I was alone. You probably went through adolescence as a teenager, a built-in excuse to make mistakes. I was 25. I felt like I should be done letting emotions drive my decisions.
Four months later, the presidential election stripped me of my hope. Hatred had won. I still feel pretty hopeless about this one.
Going into 2017, I hated my job. Numbers have never come naturally to me, yet I worked in accounting. Instead of looking out for the little guy, I worked for corporate. I tried to move to Human Resources within the company. I sent out applications all over Portland and surrounding ‘burbs to non-profits, marketing agencies and event management companies. I considered quitting my job to work at a grocery store and walk dogs. In hindsight, that’s exactly what I should have done.
On August 27, I would be turning 27, making it my golden year. I made a plan to spend it farming in Alaska and Hawaii. I started raising money through GoFundMe. Then on Easter, car trouble hit and I fell apart. My mental fortitude spun out of control. Demons on loop in my brain told me that farming was over, I didn’t have enough money, I couldn’t handle being an adult, I had to move back home and be straight for the rest of my life. I couldn’t see any way out. I couldn’t bear a future of constant disappointment. I wanted to die.
Through a text message intervention, friends convinced me to go to a behavioral hospital and be evaluated. I elected to enter an outpatient program where I’d attend group therapy for 3 hours, 3 days a week for two months. It provided a safe place to open up and hear about one another’s lives which helped me feel less alone as well as put my issues in perspective.
I no longer loved myself. I only saw flaws and mistakes. I rarely took time for myself. My self-care consisted of pills and therapy, which are great, but did not incorporate any of my passions or interests. I wasn’t writing fiction, non-fiction or even letters. I wasn’t reading or learning to play my guitar. I didn’t invest in myself because I didn’t see the point.
Then came the breakup. That wasn’t really a breakup. Then came the silent treatment. That may or may not have been the silent treatment. It was the first breakup and it didn’t matter that it’d been a long time coming. My heart broke. It was crushed. It felt dead. Then she said things like “What if we don’t break up?” My heart used those words as masking tape to hold itself together.
At least the breakup knocked one idea free: It was time for me to leave Portland. How many times did the city have to tell me it had nothing professional to offer me? I applied to journalism jobs anywhere I could find them. I applied to be a page on Stephen Colbert’s late night show. I applied to lodges in national parks. I signed up with AmeriCorps. After applying to positions in Alaska, Hawaii, Colorado and Montana, Fairbanks called me and mentioned a VISTA position at the local library. I don’t believe in love at first sight with humans but I know I fell in love with the job as soon as it left the VISTA leader’s mouth. I started researching Fairbanks.
In March 2018, I moved to Fairbanks, ready to fall in love with my job. I am pleased to report that happened. I love my job: coworkers, atmosphere, perks, responsibilities, the change I get to make. But my heart didn’t stop there. I remembered that I had once been my own best friend and I started mending that relationship. I am falling for myself.
Of course, these realizations did not come right away. I still had one vestige of my former life holding me back. Its removal required extreme measures.
We had broken up months before but still lived in the same house. When I moved, we still texted all day and spoke on the phone each night. So when I got the text that she’d missed our nightly call because she’d gone on a first date, had a connection and slept with someone else, it cut me all over again. I felt emotionally cheated on. Like I’d been held onto until I wasn’t needed anymore. What’s worse: these actions weren’t shocking. In fact, I saw them coming.
Everything in our relationship, I had seen coming. Mainly because she’d done the same to her loved ones before me and I’d read about it on their blog. But I stayed and now I had to deal with the consequences - losing all trust in myself, crying in the bathroom at work, nightmares, flashbacks (aka nightmares where you’re awake), breaking down in front of friends, questioning everything about the past year and a half of my life.
For the dozenth time, I faced how I’d allowed myself to be treated: gaslighted, manipulated, played. But this time, it stuck. I would not let myself be treated that way. Not by me, not by her, not by anyone else ever again. The process of accepting, learning and moving forward began.
I learned how to explore on my own. I became a leader again. I said yes to new experiences. I spent time with myself. I joined a gym, set goals to start running again, did yoga to relax my mind and strengthen from within. I escaped into books. I wrote letters. I signed up for opportunities without checking anyone else’s calendar. I researched what I’d gone through and saw that I was no where near as alone as I thought. I threw my focus into my service work which kept me productive while also helping others – both of which are quite therapeutic to me.
Re-learning how to trust myself proved difficult, struggling to know what was real and what was in my head. I ignored my gut for so long with near fatal consequences. Now, I listen to myself, recognize people’s bullshit faster and feel a quicker trigger to cutting people out. I understand that I can’t save people and some cannot be in my life. Currently, I am in a healthy romantic relationship. We speak to each other as equals and strive for balance, calm and harmony. I maintain my individuality while sharing common interests and having a built-in best friend. I feel supportive and supported.
To get here, I had to let go of who I was. That was the most frightening change I faced, even though over the last few years I’d begun to hate myself. I became comfortable in my own personal hell. Leaving would mean being vulnerable and open. I could get hurt again in a different way. What if it turned out even worse? Growth is funny that way - fear is funny that way. It doesn’t play fair. A decision can be 100% logical but my demons can find a way to scare me.
2019 will have its problems. I can find something in it to complain about. My challenge is to: find the positive, see the growth potential, let it go. In 2017, I added an arrow tattoo to my left forearm to remind myself to keep moving forward. For me, that message will always ring true. My past doesn’t disappear. Parts travel with me. But I don’t have to stand there, staring at it, reliving it - I get to keep going.