Whelp, here we are. Farther along than I thought I’d be. Not as far as I thought I’d be. Making the most of my time. Biding my time.
You’re not a horrible person. But you were pretty fucking toxic to me and I’m going to stay away now. Your blazer and hugs and small talk mean nothing.
But I was up all night thinking about it.
And so I stayed because of you. But I’ll be leaving because of me. Self-love really is the greatest middle finger.
But to move forward I also have to grieve. I tell my heart, “Grieve, damnit.”
Two interviews and an apartment that might hold all the belongings I took from my childhood home. Here. We. Go.
When I think about the imposter syndrome, I try my best to shake off those feelings. When I talk about the imposter syndrome–even to the women in my life that I look up to and admire–they merely nod knowingly.
I keep running the numbers through my head to try to solidify my shaky confidence. 18 in 33 students. 1 in 6 neuro students. 3.9 GPA. 6 solid references from people who actually like working with me… 2 from school, 2 from postdoc, 2 from my current job.
“18, 33, 1, 6, 3.9, 6…2 and 2 and 2”
Objectively, I can see the “success.” So why am I still so. damn. scared.
I think of tree lined streets and brick and trolleys… lakes and pine trees… the way the evening sun looks so different from the morning sun. But it is the same star… I’m the one who has changed.
reasons to be happy this week:
- booked travel to the bahamas
- booked travel to boston
- snow day on tuesday
- my company sending me flowers at work
- feeling appreciated at work
- investing in a new snow shovel (??)
- after 8 inches of concrete-like snow fell from the sky… “at least pollen counts are down.”
- returning to practicing the guitar
- this is us season finale
sometimes you go out for brunch with your mom and one of your songs comes on in the car and she says, “wow, I like it.” and you eat at a diner that she actually likes. and it’s busy and you order for her but the waitress doesn’t give you a strange look. and after you cut her food for her, she actually eats it. sometimes you take a selfie in the car. she tells you she loves you and you said it right back just before you snap the photo. and it comes out cute and genuine and infinite. sometimes the visits just aren’t so bad.
be still my heart. and believe… that even when life is hard and things are tough, that there is hope. and things will get better.
now we live in separate worlds… telling ourselves things that are meant to convince us it is better this way. i’ll never know how much of it was you or how much of it was me. something about all of this made me ready to be vulnerable with you. you gave my life meaning here… even if everything is messed up and broken, i had someone who i saw a future with. someone i thought cared about me.
a few months ago… going through my childhood home, i found a letter that my mom wrote to me in 4th (?) grade. that she was happy and proud of the person i’d become, but she “missed what was.” missed when she was the center of my world.
fast forward to the present. sitting at christina’s grandmother’s funeral… the pastor said that a parent’s job is two-fold… to give their children roots to grow and wings to fly. i feel like i never got my wings.
i’ll grow them myself.
“old enough to know what to do
young enough to not follow through
and i won’t tell you that the highway is all that bad
the miles will bring her back to you.”
is today’s promising new job just yet another temporary gig? some days I feel as if I really am “making Pennsylvania my bitch.” others feel like… there are so few opportunities (for a career, a home, happiness…) and i’m not welcome here. of all the people, i wanted to call my mom today and talk to her about it. it was more than just a feeling… it was an impulse. but there is no number to call… i was just as close to her when i was living in boston as i am now. perhaps… i was even closer then. she was living on the same planet then.
the job might very well be a good stepping stone and an opportunity to at least spend the summer in boston. it might be good to be part of a school community. to be working for a public institution during this very… disappointing political time. i am trying to be ok with right now. trying to live in the present. trying to practice gratitude. but i expected today to feel more… permanent? more like settling into something? i know it is the first day and i am impatient. but this feeling of floating–of being rootless–is getting harder and harder to tolerate.