Been a while, amirite?! Needless to say, 2017 hasn’t kept the optimistic momentum that it had in the beginning. I documented my UAE travels, and ranted on about my longstanding obsession with ruffles (a trend I hope doesn’t fade, because… duh!). So much hope, so much agenda in the early months of this year. January was sweet to me, as it is my birth month; February similarly so, then all went awry. And that discord, uncertainty and stress, has continued since the third month of the year. How did I fall from a state of joyful determination, to what feels like a soul-damaging, constant Mercury retrograde? Well, life. Life happened.
It would be foolish to ignore the significant, anti-superficial meanings that this period is imposing upon me; and I’m no fool. My mama didn’t raise one. I know there are crucial lessons being learned, and my Phoenix spirit is burning to ash only to rise again, more wiser, stronger and connected to the self than at previous times. I had a friend tell me that turning 25 was the worst year of her life. Another person I have close ties to said the opposite. Those contrasted warnings could not have prepared me for the dread I would endure, however. But for some reason, I had still hoped for a seamless navigation of 2017.
Although this time of testing has not been what I planned for, I can’t help but embrace it; revel in it even. I have no earthly idea what’s in store at the other end of this, but I’m taking solace in the journey. It’s not uncommon for me to enjoy retreating. After all, that’s what I know best. For most of my childhood, I was an only child, knowing all too well how to hide. I had friends and family, but no one knew me the way I did. The never-ending isolation I felt inside while maneuvering life with people I could not express myself to, that was my normal. It’s not their doing, though, for I did not quite understand myself. Let alone my deep, often crippling emotions and the fluctuating states they’d propel me into.
Currently, I feel like that child again. The one who lives in her own multiverse, and enjoys it way too much. The hurt, the bliss; the fear, the spirit-level knowing. I bask in it. Thankfully, I have a few great friends who keep the various dimensions of myself alive. Though confusion is the theme I did not intend on creating, the warrior in me continues to smile, feeling my way through all of it. Feeling.
What I am conscious of, is that life has slapped me furiously. And there lies a beauty that which I must discover. On my own.
The Phoenix from Lime Hall will rise again. Wiser, stronger, and more connected to self than ever.
Sidenote: Why do I sound like a villainous character, from Game of Thrones, who’s having some inner dialogue?