On the 31st eve (that’s a thing right?) of my 31st birthday. I’ve become more in tune to my bucket list. There’s no Singapore or bungee jumping or climbing Mount Kilimanjaro. It’s much softer. Much more routine. Much much more boring? Hmmm perhaps bucket list is the wrong terminology. I suppose what I’m becoming more aware of is, the type of life I want to live. I want it to include regular dinner with my brothers and their families, testing my body’s physical strength and endurance, reading books that make my heart race, reading books that put my heart to peace, and writing whatever makes sense to this little old brain of mine.
As I reflect on the past year, I can say without hesitation that it has been the year of my life with the most obstacles. And yet, I’m left with gratitude laying at my feet. A couple weeks ago, I was left with the realization that my mantra had come to fruition - everything I want is already mine. There was a time that I dreamed of this life…I had not a clue what it would look like but here I am…plopped into it and it’s my Barbie Dream House, Barbie Dream Job, Barbie Dream Friends, Barbie Dream Existence. And with that realization came a two week depression. Cause if I have it all, what more is there to go after?
There is more I want out of life but the Universe has its timing on that. Just like it had on my current state of existence. When I went to undergrad, I planned to be an elementary school teacher. However, my first semester student teaching proved to be too painful for me as I watched first graders in district I schools already “falling through the cracks.” So I switched my major. And then I switched my major. Another switch for good luck. And a few more switches to find the one that was the easiest for me. Human Service Studies.
Things began to make sense. I was helping adults struggling with substance abuse and incarcerated individuals. I found greater peace in feeling like I could make an actual change for these individuals thirty years later that I felt helpless to do when looking into their 6 year old faces during my short student teaching stint.
During one of the last internship phases of my grad school program, I had a conversation about what I wanted to do and I said I was interested in LMFT work…that I enjoyed family sessions, providing psychoeducation, bridging the gap in communication, etc. Plus I found couple sessions exciting.
Early into private practice, I had some couples and wow…please no, not my cup of tea. But now here I am 8 months into private practice and my primary populations are school aged children, their parents, and parenting sessions. I build games and activities focused on their exact needs. I provide psychoeducation. I teach social skills. I explore pain, joy, confusion, etc.
Did I know it would take 12 years for me to become something adjacent to an elementary school educator? Nope. But the Universe had it tucked into it’s back pocket. Was it the teaching that was too much for me as an 18 year old? No. It was the feeling of helplessness I felt knowing that the skills of knowing the alphabet and basic maths were lost on students whose basic needs of safety were not being met at home.
I was always meant to find myself here.
I could have never spoken the work I do and life I live into existence. But here I am.
Gratitude at my feet.
But you guys also know that is all bullshit right? Or well, more like just one side of the coin. The other side of the coin is abject terror. What if this is just the rest of my life? Do I work a fulfilling job living in my (in progress) maximalist apartment driving the first car I’ve ever been able to keep clean because I love it that that much forever?
Still, we survive. That's the paradox of the situation. You can love life and still have bits missing. - Living When You Are Already Dead by Viam
As mentioned earlier, 30 (objectively speaking) fucking sucked. It was so awful that I literally had to learn a new emotion (anger), stop engaging in maladaptive coping skills that had kept me safe for so long, process emotions without my emotional safety blanket, accept changes to relationships, and most painfully, walk away from a lot. From so much.
Ever since my realization two weeks ago that (objectively speaking) my life is fucking unbearably perfect, I, in typical Christina fashion said, welllll let’s go ahead and fuck this shit up. Perf. I’ve been going back into old coping skills.
Actually if I’m being totally honest, I created new unhealthy coping skills. It’s like a fun new game of finding a loop hole in the system of healthy living. But as
so rightfully states, that life doesn’t fit me anymore. I don’t find safety in numbing or hiding from the pain. It’s all about how to find appreciation and/or growth.I do want more though. Like a lot a lot more than this. And the things I want the absolute most are outside of my two little hands. It’s scary for it’s iteration to be out of my control and yet so so comforting that everything I want is already mine. The Universe made it so.
Really enjoyed this piece! As a kind-of-newly-turned 30 year old, I’m having similar realizations/anxieties about my own life. Also, you’re job sounds really cool. I was in education for years and switched career paths…find myself missing the kids a lot!