Epiphanies

I am the queen of wanting to do things myself. Lately I've realized that, since this move to Australia, I've turned that into a desire to not need anyone other than myself. I've always been that way, in a a sense - I felt it strongly in New York because, I think, such was the first time I didn't have my family, who I somehow didn't have the same angst against receiving help, in the theoretical sense that when you live in the same city as your family, you sort of assume that nothing can happen that would be so bad that your family couldn't help you through it. Or so it seemed to me. And I think leaving that security, and moving to New York, sort of made me feel, for the first time in my life, like I was alone, and I had to do this for myself. Which was incredibly, amazingly freeing, and was exactly what I had moved for. But when shit hit the fan, as it did when I was run down by my enthusiasm for my new found freedom, and some bad choices made therein, it was definitely terrifying. And still, my family was there for me, from all the way across the country.

And since I've moved here, I've found I've depended very little on….anyone. In New York I had friends that I made enthusiastically and excitedly, and who I met out for drinks after work, and walks through Central Park, and trips to museums, and with whom I talked about things that were going wrong, or felt wrong…and yet I think because I was so happy there in New York, I never cried to them. I never went to them when I felt so completely down and so completely helpless and unsure - those emotions with which I had always gone to my family back in California. I think it's probably because I never really felt that, not until my first NY breakup that is, per usual.

So it was easy for me to forget, I think, when I arrived here, that it was okay if things weren't going amazingly. I complained a lot to friends - about not really liking the city, about not being ble to find work, about having to life with my mother-in-law (no, we're not married but you know what I mean) and how awkward that was one very single level. But I didn't really cry and feel awful, and reach out. It was mostly just frustrated and angry, not sad. But I got sad last week, and I realized - when talking to my mother - that I should go to my friends for stuff like that, that people in your life needed to see you down, just as much as up. And I had felt so worried that people would….I don't know, judge? Judge me for leaving the life that I built for myself, and that I loved so much, to move to my girlfriend's life, fit myself into the life she had created for herself, not build a life as two….I was worried, I think, to admit that I didn't know if things were working.

But finally, I wrote to a handful of select, good friends. And the love I got back was immediate, and it was immense, and it has made me feel SO lucky. I need friends, and I need family, and it feels so incredibly amazing, that advice was given (every single piece of it being, things will work out, honesty is key, just communicate) was caring and considerate and hopeful. And it made me realize that i am so incredibly lucky. I have such a family in my life.

And now? That love and that support from those friends so far away from me, it's given me strength here. It's making me look into the activities I used to do back in NY, looking into theaters with which I can volunteer, looking into shows I can see with the girlfriend…finally starting to build my life into hers. And it's because of those friends who all said, to my ear, that it is okay if I decide to stay here. That maybe it will last three years and I will hate it like I hated my hometown before I moved to NY, and then maybe talk about moving to a bigger city will need to be brought up. But it's okay to really try to love it here, now.

And I think it helps that I now have a job, with a paycheck. And I think it helps that I have somewhere to be 5 days a week, with people who are helpful and welcoming to a new hire. And I think that it helps that I got a haircut yesterday, and I went to the gym with a friend. And I think that it helps that last night I saw an "artsy" flick, the sorts of movies I want to see, and that seeing it had been the girlfriend's idea, and that even though she had not liked it and had nearly fallen asleep halfway through, I loved it. And I remembered what that felt like. And I'm excited to keep building that for myself. With my money. With no guilt that girlfriend nearly fell asleep, and had to pay double the ticket price for the privilege, because I bring in so little money.

Maybe I'm learning that independence doesn't mean solitude. Regardless, I'm feeling very, incredibly, content today. And it's lovely.