Happy February, friends. In many ways it’s hard to believe that it’s already been a month into the new year. In others, it feels a bit like it’s crawling. Originally, the plan was to post a “2023 Goals and Plans” piece shortly following my last blog. The days quickly got away from me though, and then life had other plans; in line with all the other company layoffs, I lost my job.
This is hard because I desperately wish to be candid, but aware of countless complications, I also know that I need to be guarded. And while I do feel a little bit like I’m struggling to find my muse, I’m also trying to see it as a path through which I can grow my resilience.
It was only recently that I sat back and thought about my experience with resilience throughout the course of my life. Growing up, I’d worked hard for every accomplishment I achieved. Nothing had ever felt easy or effortless; the simplest of tasks took me forever and I struggled with homework for every subject. Honestly, it wasn’t until grad school that I enjoyed the projects I was assigned and it suddenly clicked that I loved to learn. (I just hadn’t known how to properly use my brain and correct analytical thinking power, or something, not sure).
But it wasn’t until earlier this month–as I walked the block and a half of downtown Orlando to reach my car, carrying the few belongings from my desk that I could quickly shove in my backpack, tears streaming down my face–that I realized how unlike this experience was to all of the other “hardships” I’d grown through.
I realized that now, for the first time ever, I was going to have to work even harder than what I’d always thought was my most valiant effort. I didn’t have a job and the only one who could fix that for myself, was me. Manuel and I have had many conversations about the beauty (I pronounce it “terror”) of adulthood and the endless realm of possibilities at the end of every potential decision. Burgers for breakfast? Sure! You do you; you’re grown! Two cookies instead of one?? No one to tell me I can’t! And while, yeah, some of the more minute choices about what I should eat at any given time or how motivated I am to like, put an effort into my public-facing appearance, are liberating and enjoyable. Downright, damn-near terrifying, however, is the limitlessness of who to be, where to go, and how the hell to get there. (Not to mention the level of deeply uncomfortable, personal, challenging amount of work involved).
Over the course of these last two weeks of my not working, I’ve had a lot of time to think about, reflect on, and mull over, if you will, what my plans are; what I want to do with myself, with my life. In a lot of ways it’s like I’m right back to square one–the way I felt when I was finishing up my degree (almost A YEAR AND A HALF AGO??) and the cliff below my feet began to slowly crumble. I remember it vividly, the cliff. I’d close my eyes and there I was, standing on the edge of a precipice, toes only inches from the ledge, in front of me, behind me, and all around: expansive vastness. The sky was foggy, but through the mist I could make out tons of little islands, flat, floating rocks that each represented a different direction, a different option, a different career path I could take. All I had to do was muster up the courage, aim as accurately as I could, and trust–as I leapt into thin air–that even if I missed the target, I’d still land on my feet, somewhere.
And that’s exactly what happened. I landed and I learned. I discovered that I do not do well in a “traditional” corporate office setting where the room is quiet and I do not have the privilege of oscillating my work station between lying on my floor and sitting cross-legged at my desk. I’ve learned that I am actually able to concentrate and get started on my work faster when I’m in my own home. I’ve learned that I’m actually quite good at artistically crafting Canva elements to create cute and appealing little graphics and that social media management is a seriously tough full time job. I’ve learned that despite the constant dread and lack of internal motivation whenever it comes to fulfilling any sort of writing project, (it’s really a problem, I know..) once I get over it and just start writing, my fingers (usually…writer’s block is still a very real ailment) fly across the keys. Or, at least, my conscious mind kinda blacks out for a while and when I reread a piece I don’t remember working on, I pat my back because I know that I’m good at what I do.
Those close to me know my lifelong struggle with self-trust and confidence; I second guess and overthink and far too frequently, I look outside of myself for the answers I pose on the inside. I’ve sat with this experience now for just over two weeks and while I certainly haven’t found the secret answer or solution or even the compass to point me in the right direction, I feel like I have found peace. The storm has subsided and now I stand in the calm; the wind and the fog are thinning and behind me, beneath me, is the cliff from which I somehow flew.
I am beyond grateful for the opportunity I was given, especially in the time I was given it. 2022 was a year of growth and change, new beginnings and closed chapters. 2023 might be off to a bit of a rocky start, but one of my new year’s goals is to love–and trust–myself more, even in the times when I don’t feel deserving or have a clear path forward. Confidence begets manifesting begets affirmations and currently, I’m feeling okay.
