In the last three months, I’ve been tired, overworked, stressed constantly, consumed about weight loss, car searching, boys, writing, and the all-consuming job. But I’ve also never felt more independent, more responsible, more sure in the fact that I’m a capable, nice person in the world.
Fall was hard; I had some bad fallouts with friends, boys, and work (the constant three sources of stress, as always) and I wanted to come back in the new year more determined. It’s not about setting and meeting a bunch of lofty goals; it’s about everyday doing shit that matters to your life. So I worked out. Tried more at my job. Was kinder. Took driving courses that helped me get over that dumb fear (which resulted in my first car purchase, just yesterday!) Stopped caring so much whether certain boys will ever like me the way I like them.
And: I did stuff on my own. Which yeah duh, I’ve lived away from home for 8 years now, I’ve always been able to do things alone, but now I enjoyed them instead of dreading them. I like errands. I like going to the bank and getting BOGOs at Publix. And in enjoying these small, alone activities, I’ve liked myself more. When I was in Boston for AWP a few weeks ago, I traveled alone from the airport to my hotel, navigated the trains, walked alone after midnight, and took connecting flights by myself. It wasn’t scary, it was pleasant, because I knew I could do it. It’s made me feel less nervous to approach big things (like the aforementioned car) and I feel like a real life grown up more than ever. And sure, I’m still in an exhausting job that has nothing to do with my degree and I wish I could write forever and live downtown and have a person in my life to share it all with, but damn it if I’m not working towards that everyday and feeling more confident in my ability to obtain my goals than ever before. I have health insurance and car insurance and a credit score high in the 700s and I can afford everything in my life. For now, I think I’m making this all work.