Saturday, October 18, 2014
Living in a New City
Let's start off by explaining how cliché I am right now. I am sitting in a busy Starbucks on a busy street in Seattle, WA. I feel like the only way that I could get closer to being a Hipster is if I was typing on typewriter in a vegan underground coffee shop and taking photos of the pages on my new iPhone 6 and uploading to my Tumblr, my blog, and my Instagram (Facebook is too mainstream).
So, here I am; sitting at a table that faces the window on this busy street. There's a woman outside in a white puffy down vest taking a photo of her dog with her new gold iPhone 6 (Ugh, the envy). I've taken a break from my phone and all electronic contact with people, for the weekend. I am finding myself finally feeling the loneliness and the depression of starting over in a new city. Although, I must make it a point to state that it has nothing to do with the gloomy weather. The weather isn't even gloomy by my standards. There are rainy mornings and sunny afternoons. It's perfect weather for leggings - my favorite staple of clothing - and ankle boots - today, mine are Toms suede and lamb lined ankle boots. The weather allows for thin long sleeves shirts and either a vest, a light North Face neon jacket, or a hoodie. I'm loving the weather, so it's not that.
Part of my cheerlessness is credited to my sudden realization that I am the one who left. I left California, and besides my brothers and my best friend, I have been all but forgotten. But, I was the one who left. Now, it's happening again. So many people were sad to see me leave Phoenix, and it left me hopeful that they would all make the effort to keep in touch.
I had all the parents I worked for sad to see a good babysitter walk out of their lives. Their children shed tears with me when I saw them for the last time and said my goodbyes. But, I don't know what I expected from them? Without throwing the world's largest pity party, I guess I expected kids to call me and tell me they miss me. But, they're children. Children are known for short attention spans and letting go of babysitter loyalty in favor of the brand new shiny one. I can hardly blame a child, but it hurts nonetheless. But that being said, I was the one who left.
Another thing that is hard for me are my peers. In Los Angeles, hardly anyone made contact with me in AZ. Arizona is a drab and hot place that no Angelino would willing travel to. No one really understood my reasoning or my entire story and how desperately I had to run away from it. No one asked why I was leaving either. As for peers in Phoenix, when I left, I didn't have many. All of my college colleagues, I had broken ties with way before my move. I was learning who I am as an adult and it was hard to relate to people who were still living life as college ragers. Or there was the friend who married and had a child. As much as I tried to be a part of that, I had to realize that they were building a new life together, and I was no longer the best friend. My guaranteed placed next to the queen, was no longer guaranteed. I had some teaching "peers" but we were not truly peers. We may have worked together, but I was a freshling from college and they were mostly married, with or without kids, and as close as we were at work, I wasn't part of their life outside of those school gates. But again, is that a fault of anyone? It's just how life works.
Lastly, there is my family. All I left in California were my brothers (I had extended family, but at that point in my life I wasn't in contact with much, if any, of them), and left them I sure did. It was the hardest move that I have ever made, and it's one that I have both regrets and contentment about. I regret every living day leaving my youngest brother with his mother. But it was a choice that was not mine to make. I could have fought, kicked and screamed and made a legal battle out of it. But, that would have been for more selfish reasons than for his sake. He is a young innocent who still thinks his parents are worthy of the title. I believed I would be doing more harm than good to begin that battle. At the same time, I wanted freedom for the first time in my life. I loved my brothers as if they were my own sons. I took responsibility for them as if they were. But, I had never been my own person and lived my own life. I had never strived for goals that were purely selfish. With them in mind, however, I knew that if I stayed, I would have never strived for more for myself and in turn more for them. I would have given my life over to being a mother and struggling every step of the way. My biggest goal in life was to be educated, and I knew that was the only path to my freedom, so I left.
In terms of my oldest younger brother, if that makes any sense, I am satisfied with my decision to leave. I loved him just as much, of course, and I had a much longer history with him. But, he was at his own crossroads of life. I wanted to live it for him and take away all the pain and struggle and give him a good life, but by doing that I was taking away his ability to take care of himself. He has grown into more than I could ever wish for and has proved that he didn't need me after all. Now, I even turn to him with my weaknesses. He's the only one who has seen my stronger times and I often need reminding to be that person again.
I left LA, in a way, to be a part of a family in Phoenix. My godmother has been and always will be my hero and savior. That being said, she has the most power to unknowingly break my heart. I am so damn sensitive when it comes to her love and attention that I am often found sitting in a pool of my lonely tears when I don't have her attention. It is so childish and such a weakness of mine, but I have yet to learn how to find my own strength and not turn to her for every bad moment that I have. I haven't told anyone, but my bff, that a large reason that I decided so easily to leave Phoenix was because I spent so much of my time waiting for her attention and affection. Now, I must say, she has never withheld it from me. She has never been unkind and selfish with her love. But she is a mother, a true mother of her own flesh and blood. I realized, early in my life in Phoenix, that I will never be her child. I have disowned my own parents, and for good reasons, but that leaves an emptiness inside me that I would have never expected. Even with shitty parents, they were my parents, and I belong to someone. But I hated belonging to them. Once I cut them out, I had this gaping hole inside me for someone, anyone, to guide me. I often filled that hole with men, but thank the Lord that I realized how vile and self-harming that could end up. With the excitement of moving to Phoenix, I felt like I was finally going to be a part of a true and good family. And I was, like a bastard child from a previous love affair. They did their best, they truly did. They gave me love, they gave me guidance, they gave financial assistance from time to time. But I was a grown adult, no matter how battered and ruined I was, I was my own keeper.
I spent six years in Phoenix. For six years, I searched for myself and for the most part I found more than I ever hoped for, and learned some parts of myself that I would have rather left hidden. I gained friends and I lost them. I loved, I truly loved a man and to a certain extent, and I think it's fair to say that at the time he loved me back as best as he knew how. I learned so much about who I am, but much about what I have learned is that I am hurting. I found some things to fulfill me, but I also opened the doors that lead to cavernous halls of black echoes. Who the hell am I and who am I meant to be? The biggest question of them all is, How do let go of all this pain and become that person? How do I get over this period of sorrow for my own life and find strength to climb my mountains again? For six years, I turned to my godmother as if she had the answers for me. She had great guidance, but in those six year I learned a huge lesson, she's only human as well. She's not a magical mythical creature who knows all the answers and who has a magical love that could fill my emptiness and cure me of all my weaknesses. She has hugs, she has sass, she has gifts, and she has wit. But, she does not have my answers. I wish, in the least, she had more time for me. But I have learned how amazingly and unfortunately similar we are. She has her own caves, her own fears, her own sorrows that she battles daily. She also has her own joys, her own children, her own responsibility. It's the hardest lesson to learn and understand that I am no longer her responsibility and I probably leaned on her and her family with too much desperation. I can only hope that this break from me, however much sadness may come with it, also comes with a breath of fresh air.
That leaves me here, in Seattle, alone and forever wondering. I want nothing more than for someone to call me and tell me that they are thinking of me and missing me as desperately as I miss them. But this week, that voice inside myself had made it loud and clear that I am the one who left. I am the one who must make the effort. I am a Scorpio and I have a huge air of my own self-importance and I need to hush that a bit. I need confidence and not arrogance. No one person owes me anything. No one owes me love or friendship, I must earn it and make the first steps. I must reach out, and be okay with not everyone having time or desire to extend an arm back to me. It may be personal, if truth be told, or it may be that others are having struggles in their lives as I am. I have to refocus my looking glass. It can't always be pointing it toward myself. I've lived in my head for nearly 29 years, and it's exhausting. I need to open up to the needs of others and through service and exploration I am bound to find what I am looking for.
Xoxo Sheri
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