I can feel this place changing me.
A year ago I was brought to my knees with the loss of my relationship shortly after a cross-country move to the Washington DC metro area. Ever since it has been waves of awakening. It has been a fight to stay sane, let go of the anger, feel like I fit, to figure out what is next.
One thing I haven't been fighting for is to stay me, the old me. It feels like the old me has been gradually falling away. At first I was violent in my attempt to hold on. I just wanted to run back to Colorado, to my family, my friends, and everything I knew.
It was after a weekend spent with the warmest people I have ever met at an artist retreat in the woods of North Carolina that I heard Gd talking, telling me to let the past me go. Let the anger and fear go. He assured me that if I would just let myself grow and change, that I would, and there would be abundant life here waiting for me.
The biggest lesson the past year has taught me is that you absolutely never know where life is going to take you.
I recall my last camping trip in Colorado before I moved. I sat on a cliff overlooking the lake thinking back to all of the summers spent there in my 20's. It was the lake where my friends became my best friends. It was the lake we took my niece on her first boat ride. It was the lake I got drunk and vomited all over my friend's boat, learned to wakeboard, rode down the streets with my friends, with the country music blaring, the windows open, singing the lyrics at the tops of our lungs. It was the place that quenched a deep thirst in my soul for adventure and deep friendship. At that moment all I could think about was that I was now walking away from it, and I didn't know when I would be back. I can still see myself there in my mind's eye, lingering, while my friends all wondered where I was.
But here I am, anew. With no lake. New friendships. New trips to be taken. New memories to be had. Not knowing when I will feel like I truly belong, sort of hoping I never do. But I feel the changing of me nonetheless.
I was a tax accountant for so long. It was my father's own profession, and I followed in his footsteps. I never saw myself doing anything but tax accounting. It really was all I had ever known or allowed myself to know. Since being here I have taken a major step towards a completely new profession in the IT field, considering pursuing a Computer Science degree. The washing away of my identity it seems. Identity doesn't wash off easy though.
Here is the most diverse place I have ever lived. I never realized how whitewashed the places I lived before were. Not to say there was anything wrong with those places, but just to say there was some major adjustments to be had when moving here. I now have friends, coworkers and boyfriends from India, Iraq, Lebanon, Philippines, Turkey, Ethiopia, Mexico, and Iran just to name a few.
I will never forget my first happy hour with my coworkers. The three of them all happened to be Indian men. While grabbing drinks they invited all of their friends to meet us. After a couple of hours the other newbie had to leave, and there I sat with a table full of Indian men. I would have expected to feel quite uncomfortable in such a scenario, but because of their friendliness and inclusiveness I felt right at home. I took the opportunity to ask them about their personal lives and families. They all said that when the time came for them to marry, they would appreciate their parents setting them up with their spouse. They seemed so unburdened with the prospect of finding a mate because they knew they had their families to help them make the right decision. I admit I was somewhat envious of that cultural dynamic.
There are also plenty of frustrations about living here as well. Traffic to name one. Traffic to name the other, Oh, and did I mention the traffic? I assume that because it is such a diverse place, that has a direct impact on my driving experience locally. Yep, I'm driving alongside people who literally learned to drive in Bangladesh.
No one knows how to use traffic circles. No one. And there's a phenomenon that I've come to call the "Virginia stop", which is essentially more of a courteous brake than coming to a complete stop. It seems there is nothing that can provoke someone to stop in Northern Virginia. Not a stop sign, not a cop car, not an ambulance, wildlife. Nothing.
I was driving on the Beltway when there appeared before me a high-speed chase of sorts happening between a car and several police vehicles. Most places, traffic would slow down or would move to the side of the road while the police took on the dangerous project of catching the perpetrator. However, everyone continued to drive like they were in the Daytona 500. It was one of the more bizarre moments from over the last year to be sure.
But, this traffic situation has pushed me in so many directions. I started my first job here with a 1.5 hour commute each way. I had to forfeit the gym, breakfast, showering regularly because there was never enough time. I actually started having major leg cramps because my 1.5 hour commute was not straight driving. It was sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic for most of the commute.
Needless to say, I burned with rage. The anger seeped from my veins, and I walked around everyday with my frustration sitting just under the surface waiting to take it out on someone. After shortening my commute, though, the anger still lingered. I couldn't shake it. I eventually had no choice but to realize that I had a bigger issue than traffic. I didn't want to live that way, being that angry person. I remember times coming home from a long drive that had been so aggressive and intense. I found myself driving at high speeds and bobbing in and out of traffic on the interstate in order to catch up to some jerk just so I could show them my middle finger. Admittedly, I can still find myself singing Christian worship songs in the car while intermittently yelling "motherfucker" at least 10 times on my way to work.
The traffic here has certainly brought me to my knees in anger and frustration. I don't want to be that person, but I truly don't know how not to be. Deeper still, it has forced me to come face to face with my anger issues. I couldn't admit that they existed before, but when you let a traffic circle ruin your entire day, you are probably the problem, not the traffic circle.
The list of terrible things about this place could go on and on.....people aren't friendly, people are materialistic, people are too absorbed in their jobs, everything is so expensive, yada yada.
But I have felt Gd's provision through it all. I now look at friends as gifts because they are so rare here. The different communities I am apart of, my gym, my coworkers, roommates, they all feel like a little oasis in a huge desert. When I feel so thirsty for human connection, they never run short of encouragement or a listening ear.
The other night I was hanging out with a couple of coworkers discussing my dating life. They stopped me and proceeded to tell me that I could have any man I wanted because I was gorgeous and smart and witty and that most girls in the area could not compare. They reminded me that I deserve so much more than I have been pursuing (they don't know the angry-driver me). I could tell that they really meant it too. I don't know if I have ever felt all of those things about myself all at once, gorgeous, smart, and witty. I did in that moment, and that was enough. I certainly NEVER envisioned myself feeling that way in Washington DC.
I remember being intimidated about the idea of dating and working in the D.C. area. Everyone here is certainly more educated than I am. I assumed they were also prettier, skinnier, smarter, and richer than me too.
Now I find myself asking what other labels have I given myself. What other boxes have I stuck myself in? I feel this old identity falling away because there is no longer anyone to uphold it. My friends that know me best are no longer there to tell me that I'm too difficult for most men. My family is no longer there to judge whether I date red, yellow, black, or white men. My bosses I didn't get along with are no longer there to remind me of what a failure I was in the past. I no longer run into ex-boyfriends at the bar, or friends-turned-enemies, or old coworkers, or acquaintances, or even familiar faces.
At first it was hard. I grieved that deep deep loss. Because I also don't see the friendly faces, and the babies being born, and the lake adventures, and camping trips, and brunches either.
Now, that the grieving is done, though, the new self can evolve. I can still appreciate the old person I left back in Colorado. I don't know when I'll be back, but the love and memories remain. I'll cherish them forever. Without being that girl, I couldn't get to this woman I am now.
(Also, I secretly feel so posh when I take the Metro into the city. I have never felt posh before.)
A year ago I was brought to my knees with the loss of my relationship shortly after a cross-country move to the Washington DC metro area. Ever since it has been waves of awakening. It has been a fight to stay sane, let go of the anger, feel like I fit, to figure out what is next.
One thing I haven't been fighting for is to stay me, the old me. It feels like the old me has been gradually falling away. At first I was violent in my attempt to hold on. I just wanted to run back to Colorado, to my family, my friends, and everything I knew.
It was after a weekend spent with the warmest people I have ever met at an artist retreat in the woods of North Carolina that I heard Gd talking, telling me to let the past me go. Let the anger and fear go. He assured me that if I would just let myself grow and change, that I would, and there would be abundant life here waiting for me.
The biggest lesson the past year has taught me is that you absolutely never know where life is going to take you.
I recall my last camping trip in Colorado before I moved. I sat on a cliff overlooking the lake thinking back to all of the summers spent there in my 20's. It was the lake where my friends became my best friends. It was the lake we took my niece on her first boat ride. It was the lake I got drunk and vomited all over my friend's boat, learned to wakeboard, rode down the streets with my friends, with the country music blaring, the windows open, singing the lyrics at the tops of our lungs. It was the place that quenched a deep thirst in my soul for adventure and deep friendship. At that moment all I could think about was that I was now walking away from it, and I didn't know when I would be back. I can still see myself there in my mind's eye, lingering, while my friends all wondered where I was.
But here I am, anew. With no lake. New friendships. New trips to be taken. New memories to be had. Not knowing when I will feel like I truly belong, sort of hoping I never do. But I feel the changing of me nonetheless.
I was a tax accountant for so long. It was my father's own profession, and I followed in his footsteps. I never saw myself doing anything but tax accounting. It really was all I had ever known or allowed myself to know. Since being here I have taken a major step towards a completely new profession in the IT field, considering pursuing a Computer Science degree. The washing away of my identity it seems. Identity doesn't wash off easy though.
Here is the most diverse place I have ever lived. I never realized how whitewashed the places I lived before were. Not to say there was anything wrong with those places, but just to say there was some major adjustments to be had when moving here. I now have friends, coworkers and boyfriends from India, Iraq, Lebanon, Philippines, Turkey, Ethiopia, Mexico, and Iran just to name a few.
I will never forget my first happy hour with my coworkers. The three of them all happened to be Indian men. While grabbing drinks they invited all of their friends to meet us. After a couple of hours the other newbie had to leave, and there I sat with a table full of Indian men. I would have expected to feel quite uncomfortable in such a scenario, but because of their friendliness and inclusiveness I felt right at home. I took the opportunity to ask them about their personal lives and families. They all said that when the time came for them to marry, they would appreciate their parents setting them up with their spouse. They seemed so unburdened with the prospect of finding a mate because they knew they had their families to help them make the right decision. I admit I was somewhat envious of that cultural dynamic.
There are also plenty of frustrations about living here as well. Traffic to name one. Traffic to name the other, Oh, and did I mention the traffic? I assume that because it is such a diverse place, that has a direct impact on my driving experience locally. Yep, I'm driving alongside people who literally learned to drive in Bangladesh.
No one knows how to use traffic circles. No one. And there's a phenomenon that I've come to call the "Virginia stop", which is essentially more of a courteous brake than coming to a complete stop. It seems there is nothing that can provoke someone to stop in Northern Virginia. Not a stop sign, not a cop car, not an ambulance, wildlife. Nothing.
I was driving on the Beltway when there appeared before me a high-speed chase of sorts happening between a car and several police vehicles. Most places, traffic would slow down or would move to the side of the road while the police took on the dangerous project of catching the perpetrator. However, everyone continued to drive like they were in the Daytona 500. It was one of the more bizarre moments from over the last year to be sure.
But, this traffic situation has pushed me in so many directions. I started my first job here with a 1.5 hour commute each way. I had to forfeit the gym, breakfast, showering regularly because there was never enough time. I actually started having major leg cramps because my 1.5 hour commute was not straight driving. It was sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic for most of the commute.
Needless to say, I burned with rage. The anger seeped from my veins, and I walked around everyday with my frustration sitting just under the surface waiting to take it out on someone. After shortening my commute, though, the anger still lingered. I couldn't shake it. I eventually had no choice but to realize that I had a bigger issue than traffic. I didn't want to live that way, being that angry person. I remember times coming home from a long drive that had been so aggressive and intense. I found myself driving at high speeds and bobbing in and out of traffic on the interstate in order to catch up to some jerk just so I could show them my middle finger. Admittedly, I can still find myself singing Christian worship songs in the car while intermittently yelling "motherfucker" at least 10 times on my way to work.
The traffic here has certainly brought me to my knees in anger and frustration. I don't want to be that person, but I truly don't know how not to be. Deeper still, it has forced me to come face to face with my anger issues. I couldn't admit that they existed before, but when you let a traffic circle ruin your entire day, you are probably the problem, not the traffic circle.
The list of terrible things about this place could go on and on.....people aren't friendly, people are materialistic, people are too absorbed in their jobs, everything is so expensive, yada yada.
But I have felt Gd's provision through it all. I now look at friends as gifts because they are so rare here. The different communities I am apart of, my gym, my coworkers, roommates, they all feel like a little oasis in a huge desert. When I feel so thirsty for human connection, they never run short of encouragement or a listening ear.
The other night I was hanging out with a couple of coworkers discussing my dating life. They stopped me and proceeded to tell me that I could have any man I wanted because I was gorgeous and smart and witty and that most girls in the area could not compare. They reminded me that I deserve so much more than I have been pursuing (they don't know the angry-driver me). I could tell that they really meant it too. I don't know if I have ever felt all of those things about myself all at once, gorgeous, smart, and witty. I did in that moment, and that was enough. I certainly NEVER envisioned myself feeling that way in Washington DC.
I remember being intimidated about the idea of dating and working in the D.C. area. Everyone here is certainly more educated than I am. I assumed they were also prettier, skinnier, smarter, and richer than me too.
Now I find myself asking what other labels have I given myself. What other boxes have I stuck myself in? I feel this old identity falling away because there is no longer anyone to uphold it. My friends that know me best are no longer there to tell me that I'm too difficult for most men. My family is no longer there to judge whether I date red, yellow, black, or white men. My bosses I didn't get along with are no longer there to remind me of what a failure I was in the past. I no longer run into ex-boyfriends at the bar, or friends-turned-enemies, or old coworkers, or acquaintances, or even familiar faces.
At first it was hard. I grieved that deep deep loss. Because I also don't see the friendly faces, and the babies being born, and the lake adventures, and camping trips, and brunches either.
Now, that the grieving is done, though, the new self can evolve. I can still appreciate the old person I left back in Colorado. I don't know when I'll be back, but the love and memories remain. I'll cherish them forever. Without being that girl, I couldn't get to this woman I am now.
(Also, I secretly feel so posh when I take the Metro into the city. I have never felt posh before.)
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