Happy
As I sift through my writing from the last few years, but particularly the last year, I am reminded of where I've been. And today, for probably the first time in more months than I am able to count, I'd like to write about something joyful.
Things were... a shitshow. And that's putting it politely. I was, without a doubt, the most unhappy I had ever been.
The months following were filled with despair, frustration, self-pity, depression, anger, resentment, and loss that I had never known. It was the hardest six months of my life, no question. When 2019 started, I had no idea what this year would bring. I just desperately hoped and prayed it would look different than what it had been. I hoped, primarily, that it would include happiness.
Most people probably don't know this about me, but I'd venture to say for the better part of the last four to five years, I haven't been truly happy. I've had moments... moments that made me laugh or smile so big that my face hurt, and moments where I was grateful to be alive. But on a consistent level, no. This was a product of a perfect combination of my choosing to wallow in my own sadness, and because sometimes days, weeks, months, and years are just plain shit. And what does happy even really mean, right? So, you land the job and the relationship and make the money and do the things and that equates to happiness? Wrong. I have done all of those things and lived in glorious bleakness. I've been thinking about this a lot lately, actually... what happiness really means. I have always loved this quote by Elizabeth Gilbert detailing how one achieves happiness. She says:
"People tend to think that happiness is a stroke of luck, something that will descend like fine weather if you're fortunate. But happiness is the result of personal effort. You fight for it, strive for it, insist upon it, and sometimes even travel around the world looking for it. You have to participate relentlessly."
You insist upon it. You have to participate relentlessly.
Six months ago, I had no idea what made me happy. I had no clue what I wanted to do with this life. I had virtually no ties to anywhere, or to anyone. In hindsight, it was the greatest and scariest card I had ever been dealt. It was a blank page; I got to start completely over. And I got to do it on my own -- on my terms.
So I did. I worked and prayed and acted and did the things you ultimately have to do to change your circumstances. I worked to put the puzzle pieces together. I found a dance coach in New York City who is the best in the business. I found a job. I had a place to live. I prayed to whatever God is out there that this would all work, and I prayed for sanity as I thought maybe I was a touch nuts for moving to a place I had never been before where I knew virtually no one. I acted. I took the actions necessary to make moves -- I booked the flight, I set the date, I quit my job, I packed my shit, I said goodbye. With the help of some very important people (you know who you are), in a pretty short period of time, my entire reality shifted.
And all of this has made me really, really happy. It has made me giddy-with-excitement-while-paralyzed-with-fear happy. It has made me dimple-out-and-proud happy. It has made me cry-with-gratitude happy.
It is not perfect. It never is. But it's a stunning ride that I am fortunate to be on.
What I have learned in the short time I've lived here is that New York has a way of forcing you to bend and break and start all over again every day. This repetitive breaking down, starting anew and trying and changing and hoping, it changes you for the better. It fundamentally makes you a different human being. I am in no way, shape, or form the girl that wrote on this blog a year ago. Parts of her remain -- she still has the grit and grace she did then. She still has the will to fight and keep moving forward, even when things aren't looking up. She still has sass and sarcasm to the umpteenth degree. She still has a hunger for growth. But she's different. She views this life differently now.
The other night I sat on my bedroom floor and I cried. I didn't cry from sadness, or despair, or from thinking about past trauma, or from heartbreak. I cried with intense gratitude. I cried because I have -- never before in this life -- known happiness like this. I have never known joy so pure and big and beautiful. I am so, so grateful every damn day for the people who stuck it out with me -- the ones who hung by my side even (and especially) when it wasn't easy to be by my side. I am so grateful that I stuck it out. I am so grateful that I kept moving, even if that didn't look like much at the time. I am so grateful for the loss, the heartbreak, the trauma, the grief. Because all of that sitting in the mud, all of that mess, it has been the greatest thing to ever happen to me. It led me to now. And right now is always on time.
I spent this last week in a dance intensive with an amazing instructor and 25 other lovely dancers. I taught my favorite fitness class. I worked at my full time job with incredible human beings that I am blessed to call my coworkers and friends. We experienced a hard week at work -- but this week was still the best week of my life because of the people I am fortunate to work with. I made new friends this week. I went on dates. I smiled ear-to-ear for most of it... even the hard parts.
I insisted upon it. I participated relentlessly. And that is my proudest accomplishment to date. Not a crown, not a title, not an award, not a scholarship, but the relentless perseverance of pursuing happiness.
Earned it.
This time last year, as some of you know or may have gathered, my head was clouded with doubt and life felt like a series of dismal events right after the other. My identity was questioned in every arena of my life; I started and quit a job within two weeks, I gave up on my business, I was mourning the loss of a lifelong dream that failed to come to fruition, and I frantically drove cross country to try and mend what was broken with my former partner.
Things were... a shitshow. And that's putting it politely. I was, without a doubt, the most unhappy I had ever been.
The months following were filled with despair, frustration, self-pity, depression, anger, resentment, and loss that I had never known. It was the hardest six months of my life, no question. When 2019 started, I had no idea what this year would bring. I just desperately hoped and prayed it would look different than what it had been. I hoped, primarily, that it would include happiness.
Most people probably don't know this about me, but I'd venture to say for the better part of the last four to five years, I haven't been truly happy. I've had moments... moments that made me laugh or smile so big that my face hurt, and moments where I was grateful to be alive. But on a consistent level, no. This was a product of a perfect combination of my choosing to wallow in my own sadness, and because sometimes days, weeks, months, and years are just plain shit. And what does happy even really mean, right? So, you land the job and the relationship and make the money and do the things and that equates to happiness? Wrong. I have done all of those things and lived in glorious bleakness. I've been thinking about this a lot lately, actually... what happiness really means. I have always loved this quote by Elizabeth Gilbert detailing how one achieves happiness. She says:
"People tend to think that happiness is a stroke of luck, something that will descend like fine weather if you're fortunate. But happiness is the result of personal effort. You fight for it, strive for it, insist upon it, and sometimes even travel around the world looking for it. You have to participate relentlessly."
You insist upon it. You have to participate relentlessly.
Six months ago, I had no idea what made me happy. I had no clue what I wanted to do with this life. I had virtually no ties to anywhere, or to anyone. In hindsight, it was the greatest and scariest card I had ever been dealt. It was a blank page; I got to start completely over. And I got to do it on my own -- on my terms.
So I did. I worked and prayed and acted and did the things you ultimately have to do to change your circumstances. I worked to put the puzzle pieces together. I found a dance coach in New York City who is the best in the business. I found a job. I had a place to live. I prayed to whatever God is out there that this would all work, and I prayed for sanity as I thought maybe I was a touch nuts for moving to a place I had never been before where I knew virtually no one. I acted. I took the actions necessary to make moves -- I booked the flight, I set the date, I quit my job, I packed my shit, I said goodbye. With the help of some very important people (you know who you are), in a pretty short period of time, my entire reality shifted.
And all of this has made me really, really happy. It has made me giddy-with-excitement-while-paralyzed-with-fear happy. It has made me dimple-out-and-proud happy. It has made me cry-with-gratitude happy.
It is not perfect. It never is. But it's a stunning ride that I am fortunate to be on.
What I have learned in the short time I've lived here is that New York has a way of forcing you to bend and break and start all over again every day. This repetitive breaking down, starting anew and trying and changing and hoping, it changes you for the better. It fundamentally makes you a different human being. I am in no way, shape, or form the girl that wrote on this blog a year ago. Parts of her remain -- she still has the grit and grace she did then. She still has the will to fight and keep moving forward, even when things aren't looking up. She still has sass and sarcasm to the umpteenth degree. She still has a hunger for growth. But she's different. She views this life differently now.
The other night I sat on my bedroom floor and I cried. I didn't cry from sadness, or despair, or from thinking about past trauma, or from heartbreak. I cried with intense gratitude. I cried because I have -- never before in this life -- known happiness like this. I have never known joy so pure and big and beautiful. I am so, so grateful every damn day for the people who stuck it out with me -- the ones who hung by my side even (and especially) when it wasn't easy to be by my side. I am so grateful that I stuck it out. I am so grateful that I kept moving, even if that didn't look like much at the time. I am so grateful for the loss, the heartbreak, the trauma, the grief. Because all of that sitting in the mud, all of that mess, it has been the greatest thing to ever happen to me. It led me to now. And right now is always on time.
I spent this last week in a dance intensive with an amazing instructor and 25 other lovely dancers. I taught my favorite fitness class. I worked at my full time job with incredible human beings that I am blessed to call my coworkers and friends. We experienced a hard week at work -- but this week was still the best week of my life because of the people I am fortunate to work with. I made new friends this week. I went on dates. I smiled ear-to-ear for most of it... even the hard parts.
I insisted upon it. I participated relentlessly. And that is my proudest accomplishment to date. Not a crown, not a title, not an award, not a scholarship, but the relentless perseverance of pursuing happiness.
Earned it.
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