A year ago, life looked a lot different.
I would take the red line train into the city, work much too late, and treat myself to tacos and margaritas accompanied by conversations around success, men, and the simple things too. My girlfriend and I would sit for hours and encourage each other and speak about our dreams and corporate problems and brief family updates. I would get too drunk on weekends and sleep in on Saturdays, and go to church Sunday mornings because I loved the way I felt during praise and worship. Cree and I would schedule flights to see each other every two weeks because, long distance. And I would travel for work every few weeks and order room service on the companies dime.
So yes, life looked a lot different. But I’m not here to talk about what I was doing a year ago, but rather to accept all that has taken place. To accept what I was neglecting and fighting against to not lose myself.
I moved from one city to the next, left a job, chose a new job, moved to a new home, got engaged, chose to marry, lost some friends, and opened myself up to more, started wearing acrylic nails, gave salmon another try and fell in love, and started paying more attention to all the small details that make up Janesha.
It took me, and I won’t withhold that it’s still a work in progress to grieve all that I was in order to step into all that I am written to be.
I spent nights crying over whether I was sad about friendships ending or just taking the time to acknowledge that it no longer served me even though the memories were so sweet.
I spent days trying to prove to myself that I hadn’t “changed,” simply because I chose to marry, when in reality I did change, for the better, not that single Janesha wasn’t as good, but that the Janesha I am growing into just happens to be married now.
I spent hours comparing to phone screens of portrayed lifestyles that I didn’t even want to be but just craved to know what direction I was supposed to be heading in..
The first eight months of 2020 was a whirlwind of nonstop movement, always having something to do, something to look forward to, something to wait for. In December, over holiday, as the noise finally died down, I felt empty. My life was no longer revolving around movement. So suddenly, I was asking myself, what have you been doing? And what will you do now that you’ve finally caught your breath?
I cry so often, trying to understand the transition, trying to understand where it all changed, while simultaneously giving myself some grace because, well — it’s a pandemic..
I used to think I lived with intentions, I preached living with intentionality when in reality I was compartmentalizing in order to appear happy. So at this point in my journey and what I encourage you to do as well, is to take a step back and answer those questions that you’ve been reluctant to respond to when you get triggered.
The questions like, “why do I let this bother me so much?” Or “where is this sadness coming from,” or this is a good one, “why am I so scared to let go (of this, of her/him/them, us). Start answering those questions and fully embracing the transition.
It’s scary, and it’s blurry and confusing, but as you lean more into understanding yourself you free yourself. Be gentle with yourself during this time because the work is h e a v y, but also rewarding. And don’t expect it to happen in a short period of time because it simply won’t
I’ve carried on so I’ll leave you with this, stop being so scared to figure out all that is meant to be, because you’re too afraid to accept the transition and releasing what you once were.
All my love,
Stay organized. Stay motivated. Stay inspired
-Janesha
