Over the past few weeks I’ve gotten a lot of targeted ads. I saw some motivational post on Instagram that read: “things falling apart means they’re falling into place.” My world did not end. It just shifted. One thing left, to make room for something else. Matter cannot be created nor destroyed, and through it all, I’m still here.
I promised myself when I started my relationship that I wouldn’t be a person who gets a boyfriend and falls off the face of the earth. I’m so glad I kept my promise. Over the past year, I’ve had such a full life of much more than just one piece. I’m proud of where I am in my career, in my friendships, in my eating habits, in the way I take care of myself, in the way I’ve been able to show up for other people. I’ve become more confident. I got a tattoo. I got my haircut at work last month by one of the hairdressers on set and I told him to do whatever he wanted. I’m learning to trust other people more and I’m also realizing that hair is just hair.
I’m not going to keep talking about my last relationship. I want this newsletter to pass the Bechamel test or whatever. I have so many other things going on in my life, and so do you, and my biggest fear is being boring. So thank you all, truly, for sticking with me while I stick with myself. I’m the only person I’ll spend forever with.
I’ve never felt less alone. I have a community of friends, family, coworkers, neighbors, neighbor’s dogs and local bakeries who have held me the past few weeks. I went to the laundromat yesterday and the owner looked at me and asked if I wanted a shot of whiskey. “You look stressed.” He said. “I’m just a little tired.” I replied.
People take care of people. It’s like that picture hanging in your 5th grade classroom of all the paper doll people holding hands around a flat circular earth. I am very much not alone. And I’m, not to brag, extremely young. This event I just went through is going to be a chapter of my memoir one day, not the title of the book. I have many more stories to tell and much more to live through. I will be heartbroken again, maybe over a boy or a job or a death. I’ll experience loss and pain and sadness and also joy and relief and comfort. I’ll also experience gas and heartburn and an aching back. It all comes with the package.
And I’m excited. I’m not looking for a new person, but when I do, I know what I’m looking for. Someone who knows what I want before I have to ask for it. Someone who wants to make plans with me in advance. Someone who sees me and cares about my feelings. Someone who is confident enough in themselves that they can show up for me. Someone who would always make room for me no matter where they are. Someone who can cook me dinner. Right now, that someone is me. I’m my own rebound.
In the first 4 years of my 20s, a lot of shit was thrown at me. But nothing I can’t learn from and adjust around. I’ve been rejected by boys, by jobs, by the waitlist at Via Carota, and one time I was rejected from a club because I didn’t want to pay $60 to get in. Their loss, I’m taking dance classes again and I’m moderately good. Your 20s are a time, if you let them be, of deep comparison. I’m sure everyone reading this can name a person from their high school graduating class who has a baby, who is engaged, who is married, who is living at home, who is living on another continent, the list goes on. Once we graduate from college there is no standard timeline for milestones. We’re all on the same road going different speeds. This breakup is making my brain churn out metaphors at light speed and I don’t know how to stop it. Whatever works, I guess.
The boy I had my first kiss with is getting married in a few weeks. To another brunette. He never got over me I guess, but that’s none of my business. There was a time when we were in the same place. We were both 17, both going to college in a year, both staying at my friend’s uncle’s house in San Francisco for the night. Now he’s going to be married, and he’s joining the military. I do standup comedy in Brooklyn which is sort of its own armed force.
Many people aren’t as lucky as me, to have had the experiences I’ve already had. I think about my friend Erin every day. She died at 22 and she doesn’t get to have more time. She doesn’t get to fall in love again. She doesn’t get to have the heartbreaks that make you feel so empty and so full at the same time. I wrote about Erin back in December, about how she lived so fully it was like she knew she had limited time. How lucky I am to have had something so deep that it brought me to my knees for a moment. But I’m standing up now, and I’m okay.
I can’t stop oversharing on the internet. I would’ve been a prime candidate for the Salem Witch Trials. If you or I can take anything away from this period, let it be this: Some events or changes in life are irreversible, and some are just hair. I am going through something hard, but I am growing a little bit, every day. I will grow back thicker and stronger and shinier and a little wavy. Frizzy on hot days and dry in the winter. But I’m growing back.
Loved this.
Can apply to every decade in life♥️
Fantastic words.