Existential Dillemas

Why is it that when you are young, you are unable to experience true physical freedom- without boundaries and consequence, but your mind is completely open to anything and everything, however once you are an adult and are able to be completely physically free, your mind has lost its ability to let go and imagine without borders?

---young: able to be completely mentally open. imaginary friends, new inventions, questions about WHY everything is; unable to experience physical freedom- someone always around to tell them where to go or what they can/can't do, consequences for everything in order to learn the difference between right and wrong, sexuality is not developed

---older: emotional freedom is almost nonexistent; we have learned what can and can't be said aloud, how we are allowed to feel, and what we should do based on "social norms;" no imaginary friends, ideas and feelings/patterns are set; able to be physically free without most consequences and within most contexts; go wherever we want, make our bodies however we want them to look, experience sex in any way that we want to

Is true enlightenment being able to experience both emotional and physical freedom at the same time? What does that look like- running naked in the streets without a care of who sees you, perhaps? Becoming someone who loves who they are and says what they mean without fear of being "set apart" from the pack?

Lonely or Alone

I feel mean lately.
Short-tempered and distant.
I can't bring myself to listen to mundane things that my roommate has to complain about or to pick up the numerous phone calls I've been receiving from someone I have called one of my best friends.
I find it all quite annoying. I don't want to hear about the same problems day in and day out.

So is it stress? Or depression sneaking in again? This is a different face, kind of. I experienced the need for distance last time, but I also craved human interaction. I jumped at the chance for any kind of kindness or shared experience, because most often I was laying in bed alone. But now I am actively shutting myself off, and as bad as that sounds it's not from everyone, just a select few. I miss my mom a lot, I would talk to her and visit her every day if possible. I desperately miss Kelsey and Megan. I would love to have another late-night dish sesh. I really like Emma Louise and Alayna and I would like to spend more time with them. But....my roommate. And Kaylee. I don't want to talk, I don't want to listen, I want to turn them off, and cut them out sometimes.

Some people are just so exhausting to be around. I like Katie, she really is a great friend. I am thankful to have met her last year, she certainly made my program better. However, she talks so much, she is ALWAYS talking, and for someone like me who can only handle so much talking, and who talks ALL DAY, EVERY DAY at work, it's sometimes too much. I don't want to be the person who holes up in my room with my door shut, I want to have it open as a friendly gesture, but I'd really like for her to pick up on my cues that I am uninterested in talking. And Kaylee... it's just exhausting to be a part of the same three conversations as always. She's having boy problems because she was talking to a guy and he ghosted her. She's having boy problems because she's lonely and she isn't dealing with her pain. She works all the time and is so exhausted, but here are the 30 things she did this week. Why am I so annoyed with her? I'm not entirely sure, maybe it's the fact that it's always about her lately. But even the explanatory text I just sent that I don't want to talk (so like, please stop trying to FaceTime me) seemed annoying. Like, just pick up the hint, please. Everyone just leave me the Hell alone. I guess.

I have found that I am more willing to be on my own and less interested in day trips and activities since moving, and especially since the whole Steve thing came to an end. But it's not like I'm even dwelling on that anymore. I go full days at a time before something crosses my mind, and it is more annoying than upsetting. Honestly, two years later, Noah is still bothering me more. And I don't think anything is wrong with me, I think I'm just dealing with a lot and being alone is easier than trying to fake my way through social interactions. Right this second, I feel kind of trapped because I haven't been able to leave my apartment for two days. Thanks Hurricane Irma. So certainly that isn't helping me practice patience, but damn I just want to get in my car and drive away. No idea where I think I want to go, maybe home, back to Iowa. But I feel restless and anxious and annoyed and I just want to be left alone.

Following Your Gut

Sometimes you have to follow your gut. If listening to the Universe has taught me anything, it’s been to listen to my heart and not ask questions. So this morning, after waking late and feeling only slightly guilty about wasting so much of my day off (I got up at 11:30 today), I decided I was going to find my own Orlando Smokey Row. After a quick google search, I found the Dandelion Communitea Café, which had been the only place that from their description gave me the idea that I would be welcome to camp out for a while. I mean, really, what are the rules? The coffee shop etiquette? I would go to Smokey Row and sit for six hours, but I would refill my drink and tip with every refill (even though more hot water was free) and I would always be sure to tip large on whatever food item I bought as well. I wanted to make up for the table I was taking. I don’t think you’re really supposed to spend as much time as I did, but I felt as though I was making up for it somehow, and I wasn’t the only one who was always there.

So now my struggle is to find a place with good eats, good tea, cozy artsy atmosphere, and will allow me to hang out for a few hours while I write and put together a piece. An hour and a quarter of a tank of gas later, I think maybe I’ve actually found that place. When I set out this morning, I didn’t realize I would be on the road for so long, and I didn’t think that I would get that hopeless feeling in my gut. When I pulled up to the Dandelion the vibe was not what I was expecting. Not that it was a bad one, but it just didn’t give me the feeling that I had hoped for. Similar to Smokey Row in that it was tucked back into a neighborhood, but not modern enough on the outside to make me comfortable. Plenty of people were sitting outside on the patio, but the building itself was an old house I didn’t want to waltz in with my computer bag in tow, just assuming I would camp out. Slightly disappointed and mildly flustered because I had just had to dig for change for a toll (I still hate them), I searched on my phone again and headed off on another 25 minute drive.

That’s the other thing about Florida. I am only 10 miles away from my original destination, but because of traffic, everything takes twice as long here as getting anywhere in Iowa. I am still trying to remember to budget enough time and to remain patient. I also find myself getting more carsick that I have previously which I really do not enjoy. Anyway, I digress. I pulled up in front of this current shop and my first thought was, “oh god, are they even open today?” because the parking lot was near empty and the building was shaded. I decided I would walk inside and see the atmosphere before I would bring in my computer, just in case. Immediately after walking through the door, I knew that Achille’s Art Café would be my new get away. The furniture outside gave a boho chic vibe, and inside it was shady and lit with small lanterns and Christmas lights. Covering the walls are an eclectic collection of signs, some decorative and some with witty sayings, like the one with the 50’s style housewife that reads, “DRINK COFFEE: do stupid things faster with more energy.” There is real art hanging alongside these pieces as well, and it feels like a small inspirational cave. I’m not the only one camped out on a computer, and there are some who are just having a drink and chatting. The furniture ranges from tables and chair to large stuffed couches and lounge chairs. My choice of tea was something simple from Twinnings, their Lemongrass Ginger blend.

I don’t know that I like Florida, but I like it here. I have been on the fence a lot recently, unsure of if I will go home or not. I feel pressure to stay because I made the move and I told so many people this was where I needed to be going. Is six months really worth all of the effort I put into this? But at the same time, I don’t know that this place feels like home. I enjoy work, I love the beach, and my apartment complex is nice, but certainly I could come visit the beach and I’ll find work I enjoy if I go home to finish school. I can find a nice apartment anywhere, and I have a dream of living in downtown Des Moines right near the baseball field. I’ve got a lot of choices and decisions ahead of me that I need to make in the coming weeks, but at least I know that for the next 4 months, I have this place. I have a space that I can visit once or twice a month and relax while I write. A place that allows me to get out of the house and be productive but also doesn’t that too much effort out of my day off. I’ll let you know if their caprese panini is any good!

New Beginnings, Final Goodbyes

I was doing so well, and now I'm three months behind. Whoops.

Life moves fast and before you know it, you're 6 weeks down the road and you have a handful of broken pieces in your hand. Try as you might, you cannot undo what has already been done and so there is nothing left but to move forward.

I knew before we began that it would only end in pain. For one of us there would be heartbreak, and I suppose I am happy it was me. I think it was nice to try again, a noble effort. Because really, there would have been nothing but "what ifs" without it. But time can't always heal every wound and the mind can't always forget. It wasn't just me, it was a mix of many others, but it still came down to the fact that he couldn't find it in his mind to let go and trust. I would have loved unconditionally and supported faithfully. I would have done anything and everything to make him happy, to show him the love he doesn't think he deserves, but I was not given that chance. Somewhere out there, the great controller of the Universe said, "no, not today. Not this one."

And I suppose I feel like the Universe is laughing a little, saying, "I told you not to mess with this, I gave you every opportunity! And yet here we are, so now you just have to sit there and be sad for a while." And I think that's fair. When you know something in your gut, you know it, but sometimes you can let it go and sometimes you need to pick at the wound a bit until it scars. This will be a scar, but hopefully one that tells a good story, a lesson learned, instead of bearing the burden of regret. I don't want to be upset that I took this chance, I don't want to be sad for what was and what will never be. I want to be happy for the moments we had, and thankful for the things I was taught- both by him and by the Universe itself.

I was very sad when it happened, and I think I'll continue to be sad for the loss of a friend. But I feel relief, finally. I feel free from the guilt and the frustration. I know the answers to questions left behind before, and I know it was real. At one point, it was all real and that is what matters. If he cannot commit, if he cannot be all in, then that is okay. That is where he is. We were never different in age, but we were always different in our emotional states. I pushed for things he never wanted and he gave in. That's not how a successful relationship is built.

I will miss my friend, I will miss my confidante. All of the time we shared will be dearly held in my heart. But this place is not just ours, it is also mine. And as difficult as it will be to take every day one at a time, I am ready to be someone new. Someone with new knowledge and new desires. It breaks my heart more as I type, as I realize I will be okay, but as I come to terms with the fact that he won't be there to see it. I wanted to badly for him to be part of it, and I think the plans that have fallen to dust are the things that hurt the most. I can look at memories fondly, but the happiness I was borrowing from the future has run dry and now I have to find it again in the present.

I have learned not to put my only happiness into a person, so I am already ahead of where I started before. And I know that I will be okay. I am strong and brave and true and resolute. I will face every day as its own challenge and I will rise to the occasion when it is time. I have people who love me, friends who care about me, and if I trust in the Universe, I have a future that is waiting for me.

Being Here

This is all a lot more difficult than I imagined it would be, than I anticipated it to be. I was hoping for flawless, seamless transition. In fact, the fact that all of our old haunts were here never really crossed my mind. I didn't realize that I would still be seeing him at every turn, because for me, he never existed in Iowa. I got to move on and pretend it was nothing but a memory. I thought that I was mostly okay, that the guilt and sadness had given way to relief, but I was so wrong.

Having to drive past the outlet malls, driving past Vista Way and seeing the parking lot. Driving past Denny's, IHOP, Steak & Shake, Ale House. Walking through the TTC. Seeing all of the places where he used to be, where we used to be, it hurts me. I can only imagine how it was for him. I can never know the difference it would have made in my life if I could go back and change anything. It's an infinite loop of what-ifs and timelines. Maybe some day I'll know, maybe something out there knows now.

How do I move on? How do I stop feeling guilty? I cannot stop, I try and I cannot stop feeling so terribly responsible for every bad thing. I hurt him, and he didn't deserve it. He was the furthest thing from deserving and I destroyed him. He was devastated. Just like me. I never wanted anyone to feel as broken and empty as Noah left me, and less than a year later and I caused the same damage. I'm so scared to be with anyone else for fear. Fear of hurting them, fear of being hurt. But I am so lonely. I miss having someone to confide in, someone who is always on my side. Someone who will push me onward to be better, someone to share myself with.

I made such a terrible mistake. If only I had just listened to him, if I had not dug in my heels. He used to say that I made him love me, as if that were a good thing, but now I am not so sure. He was hurt from before and I pushed and forced my way in. He said before I left that I helped to heal him from that, but I certainly had to only leave a bigger hole afterwards.

"A year from now, this will look entirely different to you."

It certainly does, but not in the way he imagined when he said that. I feel such deep regret and guilt for hurting him. I wouldn't change a single day spent with him, but I would change every second of hurt if it meant I had to give those moments up. I want the perfect time before I left back, why wouldn't I just it be perfect? I still love him, I care for him. I got scared and I ran, and I wonder if he had just fought for me if things would have been different still. But he let me go because he still believed it was what was best and that I was fickle and young and wild.

When will my heart stop hurting? When will I stop feeling so guilty? How do I ever make this right? He will never trust me again, he can't. He made that very clear. So knowing that, why is it not easier to move on? Why do I want to cling tighter to hope that things can be okay when they never will be?

Flapper Girl

I am struggling.

With how I look, with what I've done.

I cut off my hair this week in an impulsive moment. In a moment lacking self-control, I went to the salon and had them cut off my long hair that I have worked for 2 years to grow back. That I have been working seriously on since Noah left me. Why am I so heartbroken over my hair? Why am I so dissatisfied with a look I have previously had and enjoyed? Why does it feel like I've lost my identity in a few short clips? Looking into the future is daunting as I know just how long it takes to grow this out, and just how many awkward phases I have to go through first.

"Hey, at least I didn't get a tattoo I would regret!" I joke, trying to make it better. But even that certainly would have been better, a more welcome change. In fact, I spent the same amount of money on this haircut as I would have on a potential new small tattoo, all because I was impulsive and unprepared. I long for the sting and the pain of that needle putting new ink into my skin. I want to hurt because I deserve it sometimes. I want to grit my teeth feel the vibrations throughout my body, wash tenderly, and feel the welts.

I look in the mirror and the reflection refuses to show what I feel inside. Inside, I am confident and happy. I am bursting at the seams from the excitement of the unknown. Deep inside, I am beautiful and bad-ass and I love who I am most days because I know that I am unique. So then, if those truths are buried so deep, how is it that they don't grow more roots. How am I so easily convinced that I am unworthy of love and joy. How can I look at myself in the mirror of my car in the parking lot, tears welling in my eyes, telling myself out loud that I'm ugly, disgusting, and that I don't belong? How can those words feel like truth and instead of stinging, they sink in comfortably?

I cannot forgive myself for the wrong things I've done. As hard as I try, I cannot stop feeling guilty for hurting him and I honestly don't know that I ever will. There will be no second chance, not only because he is a smart man with smart friends who will protect him, but also because I cannot allow it. I could not bear to hurt him again, as I am bound to do. I don't know where I am going, but I am almost certainly not bound to Florida for the rest of my life, and I am not ready to settle. I miss companionship; I long to be intimate with a person and feel deeply cared for. If I had one more day to relive that night at the Hangar, one more evening like the one at Prato. I cannot stop thinking of the laughter and how comfortable I was, how happy he made me, and then suddenly, like a fire without oxygen, it was snuffed out. There wasn't another to tempt me, it was simply my own fears.

I cry and I remain sad and I cannot forgive myself because all of it could have been possible if I had been patient. This will forever be the ultimate example of my desires winning out over my logic. Hair will grow back, tattoos will fade, physical pain will recede, but a human heart cannot forget when it has been broken. I will forever have the moment when I broke two hearts because of my own selfish pursuits. I will always have that to look upon and remember that my actions don't just effect me. I don't think I will ever forgive myself, and maybe I shouldn't, because God-forbid I forgive and forger and then do this again. I had fair warning, I had enough signs. I should have known better and yet I forged ahead. I should always be reminded of my callous behavior, even if I never had mal-intent.

I know that he wants me to be brave and true and resolute, but I don't know that it has done either of us any good. I can't find it in my heart to be something that once hurt him. When I see myself in the mirror I see someone who does not deserve to feel that deep love again, because I was not responsible enough before. Looks will fade, they can be manipulated with time and technology, but your true self cannot be hidden behind a lens.

Three Weeks Out

Yeah, that was definitely a title reference to that one Walking Dead episode, 18 Miles Out. Get over it. I'm in a funk. I have been for a while. I've been able to write for WfW a little bit, but not much here. I definitely lost my two week advantage. I'm three weeks out from my last post here and three weeks out from the day I leave Iowa. Wow.

26 short days stand between me and what I think is my dream??? What the Hell was I ever thinking? Someone? ANYONE? Nah, okay that's cool.

It's not that bad. I was going to be taking this time off anyway. And if I hate it, I can come home. Maybe I'll live with mom instead of dad then. It's not like I feel hopeless or fucked or anything along those lines. I'm pretty excited and I am so thrilled to be going back. But I think I'm more scared this time, at least in a different way. I was scared to leave my friends and family last time, and to leave my home but now I know I can do those things. I can be away from the people I love and maintain relationships and I can have more than one place to call my home, more than one place that calls my name. I am really going to miss Iowa in Spring, and the State Fair, and the I-Cubs. I'm going to miss those things but I know I will be okay.

What is getting to me now is that I might fail. I don't want to, I don't want to prove everyone right. Everyone who insisted that I go to school and "finish strong" to get that degree! Gee! I'm tired and snarky today. I feel empty, emotionless actually. I feel like I'm forcing these words from my fingers. I'm rambling. I don't want to be a bad example, a cautionary tale. I don't want to be a good example either! "Oh look there, she did it without, and she did it well." I just want to live and not be viewed through 1,000 lenses. When I came home, I felt new and revived. On top of the world and alive. Now I feel sapped and exhausted.

No one would go to the Cubs game with me tonight and it felt really important. I wanted to go and see the new boys, the up and comers. I wanted to sit in the setting sun and enjoy the atmosphere. I wanted more to say when I know I should be staying quiet. I should be leaving him alone, even though he gave me permission. Kind of. Baseball talk is allowed and I stepped outside of those lines yesterday and I feel bad. I didn't mean to. I figured Ben and Bre were fair territory. I want to turn back time, I want to not feel sad, I want to not be sitting here listening to the playlist titled "effie" and remembering everything. I want to not be playing "Please Remember Me" on repeat. I want a lot.

I'm sitting here at Smokey Row trying not to cry because of all the things I want and can't yet have. You'd think I would be happy that one piece of the puzzle seems to be falling into place. I need to find peace, I need to make a plan. I need to set goals and make steps and strides. I don't know if I'll ever feel "accomplished" or "finished" but I want to stop sitting and wallowing. Steve wanted so much more for me and I should live up to that. Hell, even Noah wanted more for me. If only he could see me now.

Make a plan, then let the plan worry. Don't lose the thread. And.. but...
My heart hurts, but I have to keep moving forward. Maybe this is a lost day. Maybe this is a pitiful day. Either way, I have to keep going. In 26 days my life is going to take a new, drastic, exciting, terrifying, amazing turn.

Happy Birthday

I have plenty I could be doing right now. In fact, I have a whole to-do list.
I'm roughly 3 weeks behind on posts for Waiting for Walt if I want to finish my CP posts before I start my new program. I have new things to discover and play around with on my new website. I have editing to do, promotion to do, debuting to do. I should go home and see my dad for the first time in 48 hours.

But I'm sitting here at Smokey Row trying to write one of my posts and I keep having flashbacks to being on a tram. I'm riding on the platform and Morgado is sauntering up to me from the lot with some smart-ass comment or I'm standing at point in the lot and chatting to Andy, and Vince, and Justin. I can't do this tonight. I thought I needed to write, but I can't focus enough on the task at hand.

Maybe it's just the day. It is his birthday after all.

This day has almost come and gone with no significance. For nine months I've been trying desperately to figure out why 3-1-8 sounded so familiar, why those numbers stuck out. Now here I am, convinced that something was going to happen today, but nothing has. I messaged Steve, he replied in a kind way. I'm still broken.

I don't know what is wrong with me. I'm sitting in this perfectly nice coffee shop listening to George Strait(which admittedly probably isn't helping) trying to write and I'm just distracted and sad. 50 days to go before I leave and start all over. No time at all, and yet all the time in the world. I'm so scared to leave, a different kind of afraid than before. I'm excited, but this time I'm afraid to fail. Before, it was the fear of the completely unknown. I know now a few crucial details that will help me along, but failure is still an option. And what the Hell am I doing with my life? What if I have to come home and face everyone after failing yet again? Failed school, failed Disney, failed myself. It seems like a dark and ominous road to be honest.

I'm trying not to lose the thread. I'm trying to remember to take one day at a time. But I'm scared and I'm going against everything I have known. I hope that you would still be proud of me.

Still Hurting

I don't even know if I want to write about this. If this is something that I need to put down and have forever, but Lord knows that writing seems to be cathartic for me.

Last week, dad and I had a huge fight. Now we've had arguments before, raised voices and rolling eyes, but nothing like this. Slamming doors, yelling over each other, actual anger. And words that should have gone unsaid. Words that didn't come me. Now this blog is for me most of the time, so there's no reason for me to lie here. I'm being objective in this. I may have yelled and stormed out of the room showing immaturity in my actions, but I did not say anything designed to hurt my father's feelings. Trust me, there were 100 things that came to mind during and after that would have cut him to the quick, but I refrained because I didn't want to be the person that resorted to hurtful words.

I don't know if it matters why the argument started anymore, but rather the words said and the aftermath of the fight. Perhaps he was angry for other reasons, feeling depressed and needed an outlet for all of the pent up emotion. Or maybe he was actually angry with me. I don't really know. I do know that I don't feel comfortable or welcome in the house right now. I know that I can't wait until I can move 1300 miles away. I know that I am still hurting.

I am following my dreams. I am chasing my heart, following the path I know I should be taking, and apparently that's a disappointment to him. Hey, I get it. I didn't finish school in 3, 4, 5 years. I didn't study mathematics or engineering. I didn't pass every class with flying colors. I didn't live up to the dream you had in your head. I can totally see how those things might make you sad, Hell, maybe even disappointed. For a minute. Then, if I was in your situation looking at my own child, I would realize that my child is an adult. Their own person who must in turn follow their own path. I don't have children so I can't say I fully understand the whole "not wanting them to make my same mistakes" thing, but I get the gist of it and all I can say to that is that sometimes you have to just let someone fall and learn on their own.

I'm sorry that I won't be finishing school in the next year. That wasn't going to happen anyway.
I'm sorry I'm not following the path you had laid out in your head.
I'm sorry that I'm not the perfect carbon copy of you that you wanted me to be.
I'm sorry that your life isn't fulfilling and you're jealous that mine is.
I'm sorry that mom left you.
I'm sorry that you raised me to think for myself and have my own thoughts, and now that those thoughts differ from you, you find that upsetting.
I'm sorry that you feel like you have the right to tell me you're disappointed in me because I'm going to be happy.

And on second thought, I'M NOT SORRY AT ALL. Just because you are stuck in the same place you've been in for 50 years doesn't mean I have to be. You don't have to be so miserable, trust me. It's easy to fall into the hole, I know that very well. When the same old feelings sneak up, it's almost simpler to just let it consume you than to fight, because fighting is exhausting. However, at some point, you have to take responsibility for yourself. You can't just float on through blaming the depression and blaming my mom. Take a look at yourself and realize that if you want to be happy, you have to make a goddamn effort. Either that or continue to wallow, but don't expect anyone to feel sorry for you, and you sure as Hell don't get to take it out on anyone. Maybe Disney will be a huge failure, maybe this program will be the worst experience of my life, maybe I'll regret every second, and maybe I'll be home in six months. You'd probably like that, so you can tell me you were right all along. I'm willing to bet though that it's going to be amazing and I'm going to have a great time. That I'll spend a few years making magic and filling my heart, and then I'll finish school and follow the next path in front of me.

Just because you're "a hurt old man," doesn't excuse a damn word you said to me. If you can't recognize that you shouldn't say every single thought that comes to your mind, that telling someone how you feel shouldn't come at the cost of their feelings, that maybe brutal honesty isn't always the way to go (especially regarding your children), if you can't understand how telling your child "you disappoint me," could possibly hurt your feelings, then I can do nothing to help you. I mean sure, if I was murdering people or if I was in jail for some heinous crime, I could totally see being disappointed in me. It's pretty shameful though to believe that you're in the right for telling me those things for simply living my own life. Maybe you think that all of this has blown over, that it's all fine and dandy. And honestly, I wish that I could call you out for the bullshit apology you gave me. "I'm sorry you feel that way," is no apology at all. It's deflecting and it's designed to make me feel even worse for having my feelings. And by the way, I'm not too thin-skinned to handle a mature argument or conversation. I am entirely allowed to be hurt or upset by anything anyone says to me whether you deem it "enough" or not. You don't get to say hurtful things designed to make me feel bad and then backtrack and you cannot tell me or anyone else when you did or did not hurt my feelings. That's not how that works.

Oh, and another thing- it's pretty damn condescending to tell me that I sound like my mother. Perhaps, just maybe, if we sound alike, the common factor between us is not just blood relation. That's another thing you don't seem to understand. No, you don't get to tell me how you feel about my mother and the divorce. You can tell literally any other person in your life, but you do not get to make snarky comments or continue to blame her, or shame me for going to dinner with her once a fucking week. Do you know how many more times I get to see her before I go to Disney? Eight. I live in your house, I am a human presence in your every day life, and providing I can see my mother once a week until I leave, I get to see her eight more times. How dare you make me feel bad for rebuilding that relationship. Shame on you for even letting those words come out of your mouth. You don't get to tell me it feels like I'm rubbing it in your face, and then say "no no, it's great. Really, you should see your mother." You're goddamn right I should. And I will continue to see her as often as I please. You don't get to throw those things in my face, tell me I must not be disappointed in my mother when you know damn well I spent the better part of a year barely talking to her, and then say that you're glad we're getting along now. I'm sorry you're still hurt, no one expects you to just be over something like that immediately, but at some point, you can't blame her anymore. You have to take a good hard look at the role you played, accept your own responsibility, and move on. You don't get to be the poor baby for the rest of your life in this. I am far enough removed from my initial anger to see the mistakes on both sides, and at 67, you should be mature enough to do the same.

I'd really have loved to be a fly on the wall in your doctor's office today. Or when you called Kathy that night. I would have loved to hear what you had to say about me. Was I selfish and bratty? Was I overreacting and irrational? Was I rude, disrespectful, and hurtful? Do I not appreciate anything I have? Oh hey, can you point to something now, some tangible proof that I don't appreciate the things you've done for me? Still drawing a blank, huh? Interesting. Funny how the moment I break from you, how when I buy my own groceries with my own money and ask you not to eat them because I'm pretty poor as it turns out, funny how then your feelings are hurt. Interesting how my independence seems to threaten you. Maybe it's because I'm leaving, and you'll be alone again, something you remind me of frequently. Maybe it's because I'm going somewhere you've always wanted to go. I don't know the reason, but I gotta tell you, it's pretty damn selfish to put that on your kid. It's not my fault for growing up, and it's not my fault for being taught to be true to myself.

The worst of it all is that you believe you did the right thing. You believe you did nothing wrong, that I'm too sensitive and that because you're my father you had the right to say everything you did to me. I couldn't possibly bring all of this up again without being labeled as immature for not letting it go, too sensitive, or unappreciative. And I know I'll never change your mind. Really, I don't want to. However, a real honest apology would be nice. But I know I won't get that either. And that is the sad part. To realize that no matter what happens, you won't see this as a monumental shift in our relationship. I have to live with the words you said, knowing you see no fault in them, knowing you believe them to some degree, but that you have no remorse for hurting my feelings.

So there it is, the words I'll never get to say. It's a really sad moment when you see your parents from the outside and they are not who you always believed they were. I had that moment with my mom almost four years ago, and I've had it now with my dad a week ago. I hope some day I can be strong enough to move past this feeling, but right now I am still hurting, I am still upset, and I still have to pretend to be fine.

Tea and Muffins

Thank God for Morgan Street Cafe.

No, really. Not that I was walking around shady Chicago or fearing for my safety, but if I had to walk past one more cafe or walk inside and buy a "courtesy drink" only to not find a seat, I was probably gonna call it a lost cause. That, or walk back to Target.

Some backstory: I'm in Chicago this weekend with Alyssa while she goes through the audition process for the character performer role. This morning is the audition, so after dropping her off at the door to the Hubbard Dance Studio, I went on a search to find a coffee shop where I could post up and write a little. I thought I might order a tea, find a cozy spot and write about how much of a hipster I am.

Yeah, right.

I ended up walking a large square down Racine, right on Madison, back down Morgan until I found this cafe. Across one street and to the right down West Jackson and I'll be back where I started, but I'm not all that bitter, I promise. I had to walk through three shops and order two drinks that I didn't take more than 2 sips of (that's about $10 wasted) to find this little cafe on the corner of Morgan and Adams. I'm sitting at the bar by the window while I write, the community corkboard to my left. Flyers for music shows, quality dog walking, and various businesses cover the walls. Behind me is the counter and kitchen with two large boards covered in the menu. I ordered a Twinning's tea and a lemon poppy seed muffin, but I might have to stick around and order lunch too because a quesadilla sounds really good!

I few minutes ago I had a police officer and a contractor sitting next to me, having a conversation with one another about Chicago and how glad they are to be able to serve the city they love. It was pleasant to overhear a conversation between two men of different races agreeing on the state of their city and how proud they were to be here- something that seems to happen rarely these days. I felt honored to sit next to them and overhear an exchange that restored my faith in my fellow man.

I'm in West Loop this afternoon, a place that is fairly wealthy and reminds me of the East Village. Young population, expensive shops, hipster vibe. Yet in the middle of it all, I have found a place to sit and relax and call my afternoon home. So thank you Morgan Street Cafe! You saved me from lugging my computer all over creation, and you supplied me with a healthy dose of humanity. I'm not even from this city and I'm proud of it too.

Winter Grass

I told Steve today.

It was harder than I had imagined it would be. Talking to MacKenzie convinced me that I needed to tell him before he heard it from someone else. After the time spent together, it would have been far worse to hear it through gossip than by my own mouth.

So I told him, after not hearing from in a month, which was hard too, but something I had come to be okay with as part of the process. I din't hardly expect to hear from him at all, and when he did reply I was surprised, struck by how distant it was. I'm reading too much into it, after all I did deliver some not-so-savory news.

The hardest part for me had always been the loss of a friend. Not only did someone get hurt, but a connection was lost. Mario and I prove that after time, exes can be cordial and friendly and exist within the same circles, but it's not like we go out of the way to talk to one another. We once were part of each other's lives, and that time has passed. Noah will likely be one that I don't see or speak to again, and perhaps that hurts worse than the rest because how can you go from something so great to nothing at all?

Time will tell if Steve and I can exist in the same circles. We have some of the same friends, we will soon work for the same company once again, it's not as if it will be impossible to hear our names or of our comings and goings.

The text and the reply brought everything back to the surface, after this silent month of moving forward and hoping for the best, I hear from him. He wasn't just a figment of my imagination, but someone who is real and exists not only in a world I once knew, but in a world that I live in too.

I am sad. Sad for the lost moments, for the forgotten friends. Sad for the ending.

You're Welcome

Lately the loneliness has been creeping back in, and it's been hard to pinpoint and tackle. It's not the depression this time though, because that battle has been won for the time being- I found Hamilton, I found Moana, I'm going home.

This is the loneliness that comes from the lack of being loved and cared for. I'm not talking about friends, because I know I have found them in spades. Im talking about the deep romantic, all consuming, life changing love that fills your heart. I've had that exactly once, and I am longing for it now. I miss knowing someone is out there pulling for me, I miss thinking about someone and hoping their day is going well. I miss checking in, hanging out, being together.

And because I've had this all-consuming love just once, I have but one relationship to reflect on, but that's not fair to me, because I can glamorize the memories all I want but it doesn't change the truth. I can remember the good times and black out the bad, I can pretend he didn't say the things he did, I can imagine a timeline in which we were perfectly happy forever, but that doesn't change that he lied and destroyed me. It was bad. It may have been good once, at the beginning, the very start, but it wasn't good at the end. I don't necessarily miss him, but I miss what we were and how I felt. I miss stargazing, laying in bed on Sunday morning listening to the birds, cooking meals, talking about our projects.

It was all so easy, effortless.

I think I could have had it a second time. I think I was close, within reach. And, but I had to go home to move my life along and the 1300 miles took its toll. I fought against it so hard but in the end I was the one who withdrew this time.

That's all I want- easy, effortless, comfortable. It felt so right to just be near Noah, and sometimes it would be very nice to have a partner. A shoulder to lean on that was always on my side, another human who was always physically there, someone to help share the load. This isn't about friendship, this is about companionship and being scared of being alone in this life. I like my independence, but I'm willing to share.

It was hard to let him go because he was everything I needed then, until he wasn't. I can romanticize it, but I shouldn't, because it wouldn't be true. I want to be held, I want to be put at ease, and I wish I could turn this off because it's damn distracting.

May We All

Nine days ago I received and accepted a position with the Walt Disney Company for a second program in the College Program, and I have been riding the high that came with the email since then! Since I returned to Iowa in August, I have been homesick for the place that taught me about happiness and real magic, about bravery and adventure. It's hard to believe that after the heartbreak and uncertainty, I really get to go back.

In the last six months, I have applied and been denied for the Spring Program, a set-back that felt like a personal failure. I have experienced heartache at the loss of someone I cared for greatly, and the future of our relationship is yet uncertain. I have applied for (and received) but had to turn down a part-time position with the very same company I have missed desperately, realizing that not everything can be forced. I have made things for difficult for myself, I have learned some hard lessons, and I have been granted the privilege of my life to go back to where I feel I need to be.

Some will say that I am not doing the right thing, that I need to buckle down and finish my time here at school. To those people, I ask if you have ever followed your heart or your gut to somewhere unexpected? I don't mean this in a rude or condescending way, but rather from a truly curious human to another. Have you never felt a longing for a place or a season of life or even a person, something so undeniable that makes you wonder if you really should drop everything and go? Have you ever stopped your life to follow that feeling? Maybe if you haven't followed that feeling, or if you haven't experienced it, then you cannot relate to where I am, and maybe the temptation will be to pass it off on my youth and inexperience. Yes, I am 23. I am young, wild, kind of flighty, and fighting for my independence, but I have learned and I know beyond a doubt that things have a way of working out the way they are supposed to. I am following a feeling that is telling me to push onward and chase this dream. Maybe I'll arrive and realize it was all a mirage, that my last program was as perfect as it will ever be, and I can return home in January having not lost anything. Maybe I'll realize I have made a huge mistake and self-term and come home early. Maybe it will take me 5-7 years before I finish my degree because I'm sick of making magic with Disney. Just maybe, I will find my happiness and my purpose at a company that brings joy to every life it touches. I cannot see the future, but I can listen to the Universe and I can follow my heart and trust that everything that happens will happen in its own perfect timing, for a set purpose.

However, I have been so caught up in getting away from here and getting there, that I have forgotten the things I will be leaving behind when I go. I never expected to miss HyVee, but the other night at work, I told one of my managers about leaving and he made a comment about how everyone likes me there. It suddenly hit me that the people I was so nervous to get to know will be people that I genuinely am sad to leave behind. Sitting here at Smokey Row this evening I realized that I will be leaving my writing space and my favorite tea behind as well (I'm making a mental note to find a cafe ASAP upon arrival).

While this place is my home, Disney is where my heart resides. I have never felt a pull quite as strong as the one that is guiding me back there, and I intend to follow this string until the end of the line. My only hope is that I will find contentment in my journey. That I can continue to give my worries and trepidation to the Universe and trust in the greater powers that be. This second chance is sure to be meaningful and full of synchronicities, overflowing with lessons and memories made, and I just want to be able to take it all in and appreciate every moment- high, low, and in-between.

So here's to Walt, to his dream and mine, to the future, and to magic!

Yeah, you learn to fly and if you can't then you just free-fall. May we all...

Perfect Timing

One year ago, I left for Disney.

Going back and reading some of the things I wrote when I was sitting on the tarmac waiting for my plane to take off, I can't believe how insightful I was, even then, and how I truly had no idea what lay ahead.

This last week on Tuesday, I had six moments, six little nudges from the Universe. The first two came in separate packages that I helped ship to Bradenton, the town where Nick and Sarah Sirriani live now. While Bradenton is a good two hours from Orlando, it still triggered memories of St. Pete beach and Florida itself. Later, in the break room, a commercial for Disney played on the game show channel. In the evening, a song that I frequently sang on the back of the trams played over the store radio- Something Beautiful by NeedToBreathe. Once I was home I saw two more commercials, one on the Food Network, and one on the History Channel. Walt was everywhere that day. I texted my friend who has introduced me to nudges and synchronicities and the Universe in general to tell him about all of the things that had happened that day and he replied, "Man, Disney is coming to get you," and I knew immediately that he was right.

Sure, maybe if you are looking for something then you're going to see it more often. Like when you get a new car, and then see that car everywhere. But there's something to be said for the coincidence, or lack thereof, of it all. I have believed that everything happens for a reason for years- before, during, and after my church days. Long before I attributed anything to God, and since I have stopped calling it by that name, I have known that I am not in control. That something greater is in charge. That is a whole other post, a whole other topic for discussion, but either way, the Universe is calling me and guiding me to people, places, and things. I know that as surely as I know the sun will rise tomorrow morning.

So in going back to my first post where I was writing about being excited and nervous to go on this journey, back before I was calling it anything other than coincidence, I see evidence of the Universe working me, showing and guiding the way. I knew from the beginning that those six months wouldn't just be a vacation, they would be so much more for me. Maybe I was imagining stories of visiting the parks to share with my children, and instead I now have stories of strength and lessons learned to draw on, but nevertheless there are moments that will not be forgotten. Three months after I came home, and now another three months down the road, I still have the same burning desire to return and to make the same magic for others that I experienced every time I walked under the train tunnel onto Main Street.

All that's left is the waiting.

Four months ago I applied for the Spring program and I was denied. Three weeks ago I applied for the Fall program and have successfully completed the interview and application process for now the third time. I am (impatiently) waiting to hear back, and while it's going to be another four weeks at least, I am not as desperately anxious as I was in October. That decision was spur of the moment and desperate, a last ditch effort to do something I wanted, and the Universe turned me down. This time was given a minute's more thought, and this time seems somewhat different. I have a plan in place, and it's for me, not for a relationship I'm trying to hold on to or friends I'm trying to be with. I know that if I am turned down for this program then the Universe is directing me to stay here in Iowa and finish my degree at Iowa State, and while I may be disappointed that it's not yet time, I can trust that more is yet to come.

One day at a time, is all I can really hope for. One day after another will bring me closer to my goals and my dreams. I have a plan and I am letting the plan worry. Maybe, like so often, this plan will be shot all to Hell, but maybe I'll learn how to pick up the pieces and keep moving forward. That's all I can ask for, is that I can learn and keep pushing on.

Walking The Path

One of my goals for this year was to write at least once a week on my blog so that by year end I would have 52 posts and a pretty good chronicle of my year. 2017 promises to be a year for me- everything is coming up Effie- and I want to make sure to document this. Something about the first month of the year already feels different. I feel stronger, more sure of myself. I am excited to be going to the gym and taking care of myself(with the exception of the last couple days), which is a new feeling. I think I finally found the motivation I need, something inside seems to have shifted from "ugh, this is something that I have to do," to "this is something good for me so I will find joy in it." I can see myself getting healthy and I want to pursue that vision as something that will make my life better, not as something that feels like a cultural expectation. I'm particularly happy with this development.

One of my other goals, one of the major ones, has been to find happiness and contentment in my day to day existence. Learn how to be excited for the future and still be fulfilled by where I currently am in life. I can say that this too has been going better than I expected, and for that I am thankful. With the beginning of the year, on literal day one, I found my inspiration and I sensed a shift in my attitude as well as a shedding of the things that had been weighing me down in the last weeks of 2016. I am still deeply saddened by my recent separation, and I am still nervous for what the future may hold as far as when I will finish school or be able to return to Florida, but somehow I am able to push through those dark thoughts to seek a greater happiness. Now there have been a couple of days that were overwhelming, I won't lie and say it's all been peaches and cream, but they seem less consuming overall than I have experienced in the past. It's important for me to be able to take over my life, because something I realized recently through one of my outlets is that I don't feel in control often enough. And yes, while I believe the Universe has ultimate control over outcomes, I also think that we guide those outcomes to reality. So to take ownership of my choices, of my attitude, gives me control in my life that I was previously brushing off.

"Well if it was going to happen anyway, then I guess I have to be upset about it."

I refuse to be a slave to the feelings of despair and hopelessness that I have previously fallen victim to. I know that I have a real medical issue, one that comes from a lack of the proper chemicals in my brain. I know that I can't always just flip a switch and make it all better, but I can take responsibility for my actions and attitude. I don't have to wallow, I don't have to be 100% sunshine either. I have given myself permission to feel my feelings, whatever they may be, and then move forward trusting that the Universe remains in power.

I touched on it before, but I want to pursue the vision of myself that I keep in my mind. Not the one the world says I need to be, not the one that might be expected of me from the cultural norms, but the one that makes me smile and think, "Now that is how I imagine my life to be." Currently, that vision includes returning to Disney and following that dream. It means losing some weight so that I feel healthier in my own skin. I envision someone who walks through her days thankful for everything she has traversed knowing that it has all brought her to this one moment.

I have come to really appreciate the days that I can take to come write at Smokey Row. The chance to sit and relax has been healing in ways I didn't expect. I knew that I was a pretty good writer, I have always enjoyed writing stories about myself or papers in school, but I haven't pursued it with much vigor. I find now that I have committed to once a week, I can't wait for the chance to come here. I like getting out of the house and being part of this environment. I feel creative and free, as though I'm satisfying some thirst in my soul that I didn't know existed. 

I'm very excited to see where this year takes me, I'm so looking forward to my life.

The tunnel has been long and dark, the light at the end has been dimmed and blackened out several times, and now I am finally on the other side. Many years of pain and hurt I think can finally be set behind me in a positive way. As we walk the paths of our lives we come to many tunnels, and hopefully many more trails in the open air. It's not one long fight through the darkness, though it may seem that way at times. I choose my outcomes, I choose my reality, I will make my life what I want it to be. So I am choosing to see myself on the other side of this long tunnel. There's no reason why I still have to be in it, or why I should be "almost there" instead of "been there, done that." I am feeling the freedom of walking in the sunshine, enjoying the fresh air, and stopping to smell the peonies on the side of the road.

That Familiar Feeling

It seems like every 4-6 months I have this itch to do something different. Sometimes it's satisfied with a shopping spree, or a change of hair color, but the only thing that really makes it go away is getting a new tattoo. I've explained away the feeling as an addiction to the needle, or as my "gypsy soul" making another appearance, but recently I had a significant realization: this feeling, this itch seems to become more pronounced when I am feeling out of control of my surroundings. When I am not happy with myself as a person, when I am not happy with the situation I am in, when I am perceiving myself to be stuck. Sure, the first couple were purely because I wanted them and I could and it was new, but since that time, every single one has been prefaced by the words, "ugh, I'm bored. Let's got get a tattoo." Which isn't the worst excuse in the world, when my alternatives would be wallowing or depression, and every tattoo has meaning for me. It's not like I'm going and getting burning skulls and upside down crosses on my body, but they are mostly marks of times of distress.

So I have 10 tattoos, and I have several that I want to get touched up before I get any new ones(look at me being responsible, ma!), and yesterday I had the money so I went to Color Works at Valley West Mall and had a little work done. The whole process is thrilling for me: the butterflies in the stomach, the laying on the table, the sting of the needle, riding the adrenaline high, walking away with something new and physical and changed. Now don't get me wrong, tattoos are not a walk in the park. I have several that hurt quite a bit, but as I was getting work done on my semi-colon yesterday, I was so relaxed in the chair, laying there looking up at the ceiling, hearing the buzz of the machine next to me, and I realized something else: this is almost like therapy for me. As I drove home and felt that familiar stinging feeling on my arms, like I had a bad sunburn, a smile drew across my lips. Maybe I'm an adrenaline junkie in small doses, but maybe I have an urge to be in control of a life that seems so out of my hands more often than not.

I find myself thinking about my urge to return to Disney. Is it possible that this thing that has plagued my thoughts, driven my life forward every day since I left, something that isn't good for me? Is it something that is unhealthy and depriving me of real happiness? I had heard of "Disney depression" before I left for my program, and vowed not to be one of those people who fell victim to it, and while I wouldn't say I'm depressed that I'm not there, I recognize that a great weight is on me. How could it be that the thing that brought me such fulfillment then, and promises to again, could be something toxic? I'm scared. I'm worried. I am nervous that I am seeing past all of the good I have here to find it elsewhere. Am I being childish? Am I being selfish? Am I not thinking logically? Surely there are people everywhere who want to return to Disney to pursue a career following their college program. I can't possibly be alone in this. But am I obsessed? I don't want to spend months and months pursuing something I should just let go, but then again- if it keeps showing up, then maybe it's not a waste of my time.

I'm looking for synchronicities, I'm looking for signs. Everything happens for a reason, and I am supposed to be here in Iowa right now, no matter how much it hurts or feels wrong. I wish I had the book of my life at my finger tips, a physical copy that I could page through. Maybe I don't really need to know the ending, but just an instruction manual. Something that tells me how to read myself and the situation, something that makes the options clear. I wish there was a counselor for this kind of thing.

As I unscramble my thoughts and work through the path, I hope to find answers. I want happiness and I am worried that a big part of Disney for me actually turned out to be Steve. Am I longing to return in hopes of a second chance? I don't think so. Could I work in the parking lot again knowing he's there? Maybe. All I'm asking the universe for is a chance to find out.

As my artist said, "All you need is gas to get there."

How Far I'll Go

I am a girl who loves her island, and the girl who loves the sea…it calls me!

I recently saw Moana in theaters (yes, yes, I know it’s been out since Thanksgiving. Whatever) and I pretty much cried the entire time. Now, as of late, I’ve been pretty emotional about just about everything, but this was different! Moana wasn’t just a sweet story of a girl who saved her island and her people while finding herself in the process, and it wasn’t just a wonderful way to include young girls of color all over the world with a beautiful Disney character to call their own: it was a story that spoke deeply to me personally.

And if the voice starts to whisper to follow the farthest star, Moana that voice inside is who you are…

Since returning home from Florida, my heart has not been here with me. The voice inside is calling me elsewhere, but I have felt tied to this place. I have struggled against myself, knowing this is where I should be but also knowing that I want so desperately to be elsewhere. Listening to the Moana soundtrack, and finally watching the movie was like seeing my own story play out before me. The underlying themes of “follow your heart,” and “find your happiness,” resonated so strongly with me that I spent many of the musical numbers wiping away tears. Not only in the music beautiful and tropical, but the lyrics are powerful and meaningful. The message the movie teaches young children in amazing: be who you are, despite the forces trying to keep you tied down, and the message it taught me was powerful and altering: don’t be afraid of the voice inside you urging you to listen.

Every turn I take, every trail I track, every path I make, every road leads back…

Am I making this a bigger deal than it is? I have believed in destiny and fate for a long time- everything happens for a reason. During my senior year of high school, all anyone could talk about was what you going to do with your life. What are you going to do? Who are you going to become? What are you going to study? And then, throughout college, I had this underlying thought that I had to discover who I was, and I had to do it in 4 years time. When it started to become apparent that it was going to take me longer than 4 years to complete school, I began to worry that I was defective, and when I reached my junior year and I still didn’t know what I wanted to do after graduation, I worried that I wasn’t trying hard enough. What is wrong with me? Will I ever figure it out? Will I ever be happy? Then: Disney.

I have never felt more content in my choices, more at home, or more happy than when I was at Disney working in the parking lot. And sure, maybe immediately after arriving I was scared and homesick and annoyed by my job placement, but hindsight is 20-20 and I wouldn’t change those six months for anything. I was talking to my tattoo artist the other day and explaining how amazing it was to finally have this feeling of satisfaction, to have this one thing that I want to chase. I went years without an idea of what I wanted to do after school, and now, as silly as it is, I have this thing sitting in front of me that calls me. I worried when I came home and I still worry now: is this childish? Am I yearning for something that is now part of my past and should stay there? I think though that if I believe everything happens for a reason, then I have to believe that this voice inside is not just taking up space.

And the call isn’t out there at all, it’s inside me…

Disney isn’t calling me, my own heart is calling for happiness. For the first time, I found something that made me feel fulfilled and content, and I can’t turn back and pretend I don’t know what that feels like. I was helping people, creating happiness, and I was having fun. So maybe I need to set my sights higher- is it Disney I want or is it another job that fills those requirements? Would I settle for a job in the parks, or would I want to rise within the company? So many possibilities, so many opportunities. The one thing I am absolutely certain of: I need to listen to the voice inside. Trying to keep it quiet only makes it louder, and pretending it isn’t there only makes me more restless. I may not know the way just yet, but it’s time to see how far I’ll go.

Dreaming of Home

Up until fairly recently, when I would begin to feel homesick or overwhelmed in my daily life, I would find myself missing my old home on Holcomb. Wishing that I could turn back time and live in the innocence of my younger years, just have the chance to enjoy my childhood home one last time- and no, that most definitely wasn't a Hamilton reference. While I was down in Florida for my program, I felt homesick for people(peoplesick?), and I developed a way to help me work through the restless nights where sleep evaded me. In my mind, I had created a safe space, a quiet room to lock myself in when the voices wouldn't shut up and thoughts wouldn't stop racing. This little room resembled the inside of my childhood home- the pale yellow walls of the dining room, the small blue kitchen leading out to a garden filled with good-smelling flowers. The walls were lined with book shelves and the room held two very comfy couches. It never failed, and still doesn't, that when I'm having a restless night I can retreat to my hideaway and fall asleep without much further fuss. 

So maybe since I gave my home a permanent residence in my mind or since I have given the memory a purpose, that is why I don't find myself longing for it when I'm sad anymore. Instead, now I dream of Disney. I long for the apartment on Meadow Creek Drive, for the scratchy and obnoxious costumes, and for the moment’s I shared with the people around me. If I concentrate, I swear I can smell the parking lot (for better or for worse) and I can feel the Florida sun on my skin and I hear Wishes playing the background. There’s no doubt that Disney feels like home to me now, or that someday I will return, but at the same time I know that when I return it will be a different experience. It won’t be my first time striking out on my own and I’ll know what to do differently. It’s easy to look at my longing for my childhood home and say, “well you were too young to appreciate all that you had.” And that’s true! I didn’t know what would happen to that home, that it would be impossible for me to return one day, and even if I had known I would have been to young still to take in every moment objectively. However, Disney I have no excuse for. I went into that adventure wanting to take advantage of every opportunity that came my way, eager not to waste a single moment, I wrote my first blog post on the airplane waiting to touch down in Florida. Then, somewhere between my first (semi-disastrous) day and mid-April, I forgot to be an active part of my surroundings, and now I sit here and regret all of the time that I wasted sitting on the couch in 3404. I packed so much into my last two months there, but just imagine all of the memories I could have made if I jumped headfirst into making friends, visiting the parks, and traveling around the area. The memories I did make during my time at Disney far outweigh the bad parts, and maybe even the regrets, but I’m trying to be okay with how I spent my time- especially now.

Missing my home, longing for a time when I was less stressed and far less weighed down by my impending future… why didn’t I take advantage of all that the DCP had to offer? Maybe that would be a good post: “What not to do on your college program.” I met amazing people, soul mates and people who changed my life forever. I made memories as an adult at a place that made me feel like a child again. And maybe that’s why it has become the new focus of my longing, because it made me feel innocent and protected again. I felt safe and happy and fulfilled at Disney, something I hadn’t felt in a long time. I was talking to my tattoo artist yesterday and was explaining how amazing it felt to finally have something that I really wanted to do after all of the confusion. How it kind of came out of nowhere, but all the same, there it was. I’m working on contentment this year, and this particular issue is near the top of the list, if not the first item. I want to be okay with where I am, but I want to be happy with where I have been. I can manipulate my future, I can change my surroundings and my circumstances, but I absolutely cannot roll back the clock. I must learn to be satisfied by my past, learn from any mistakes I think I have made, and make the necessary changes to ensure my future is what I want it to be.

This post got away from me a little, I feel as though I have been rambling and not making a whole lot of sense. I’m distracted and unfocused today, but I know that my heart has been heavy with this topic as of lately. I gave the house on Holcomb a purpose, so perhaps I need to give Disney a purpose too. Maybe it’s time that I try to make Waiting for Walt into something more than just a journal, but something to reach others. After all, isn’t that I feel called to do, at my core? Reach others, help others. I think it’s time that I take responsibility for my surroundings and take the chances I want to take. Here’s to jumping, falling, and succeeding!

Transitions

Nearly two months ago (it does seem longer than that) I found out that I would not be returning to Disney as part of the Spring College Program and it left a hole in my life that I couldn't explain nor fill. I had been floating through the months since returning home, holding onto the thought that soon I would be reunited with the friends I loved and with the job I longed for. Now, 60 days later and it seems I even farther from that truth than I was when I first started.

After being denied for the program, I applied for a full-time job with Disney and I was in fact offered a position as a Quick Service Food and Beverage Cast Member at the Caribbean Beach Resort. Unfortunately, I was unable to accept this job due to many factors, and now I must live with the consequences of my impulsivity. Had I been patient and thoughtful in my grieving process I think I would have found that it was okay for me to stay at home for a while. I think I would have eventually found comfort, and instead I have caused myself and others more heartache than perhaps necessary. On the other hand however, perhaps I needed this event to truly remind me that feeding my impulsive side is not always the answer.

It's always hard to wait for something you really want, but if it's worth having then it is worth waiting for. My impulsive nature and the voice inside my head that is often restless make me who I am, but I think it is important to learn how to satisfy those feelings in a controlled way. Putting limits on myself so I can learn how to explore and not also throw everything I have out the window. I was ready to move halfway across the country at the drop of a hat for something, and for someone, that I was not financially or even mentally prepared for.

So here I am in Des Moines, Iowa, sitting in a coffee shop on the edge of the interstate. 1,341 miles from where I want to be, but exactly where I need to be. I think it is important to give the transitions in our lives the appropriate room they need to grow and fully blossom. The big moments, the cornerstone events, those will be the ones we talk about with our friends, but the time between those moments is where we will find ourselves. It's where the growing and the healing happen and where we will learn patience, love, and endurance. If I am truly brave and resolute, then I have learned those things from the walking in-between (thank you, Ben Rector).

Walt worked for what he had, he didn't just wake up one day and suddenly he was the man behind the mouse. It took trial and error, mistake after mistake, and many periods of transition. I am setting my sights on goals this year, and one of those goals is to be content with where I am in my life. Everything will come in its perfect timing. Walt will be patiently waiting for me, and so I will too.

Thank you, Alexander; Thank you, Lin

Alexander Hamilton would have been 260 years old today, and I can't help but wonder what he would think about the hit Broadway musical that now carries on his legacy.

What is a legacy?

I've come a long way in the last year, and I've learned so much about who I am and who I hope to be. I can only ever hope that each year that follows is as full of adventure, growth and love as 2016 was.

It's planting seeds in a garden you never get to see...

I am brave, true, and resolute. These three things I have learned are certain. And yes, I have known that I was brave on some level, and even loyal. Resolute was new to me, but it's just as a part of me as the rest. It took moving half way across the country, 1200 miles from my friends and my family and my home to make me realize that I am stronger than I ever could imagine.

At the beginning of 2016, I spent six months working at Walt Disney World and while there I met a handful of people who challenged my soul and who affirmed my importance. Nothing quite tests your inner strength more than removing yourself from your safety net and just jumping, but nothing gives you more freedom, either. I was immensely homesick, and then I learned how to love deeply and find happiness within myself. The friends, now family, I met while in Florida will forever play a part in the story of my life.

Raise a glass to freedom, something they can never take away...

Returning home, I was worried that I was going to leave my happiness in Florida. That the small shell of a girl who lost her first true love would be the only thing I found upon my arrival back in Iowa. But something happens inside a person when they experience freedom, real spiritual freedom. I have long since removed myself from the church in any traditional sense, but I have always known that something bigger than myself existed in the universe. I realized that the universe was calling to me, so not only did I find freedom from the home I had know and also professional freedom, but I know that I found spiritual freedom in my experience at Disney. Home has been a challenge; it feels kind of like trying to force a puzzle piece into the wrong spot. I have experienced freedom, and no one can take that away. Trying to re-cage my soul is not going to work. And so instead of forcing the puzzle piece to fit somewhere it doesn't belong, I've decided that I need to take a step back and look at the bigger picture. This year is going to be about discovery and healing. Every year from here on out will be for me, every moment will be lived in search of finding happiness, contentment, and freedom.

Life doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints...

So that brings us back to Hamilton, and the influence the musical and the man has had on my life in the months since I've been home. Alexander Hamilton was non-stop, he refused to sit back and let the world pass him by. He knew what he wanted and he took it. So this year as I learn to find my purpose and my place in this big universe, I'm going to challenge my inner Hamilton. I'm going to learn as much as I can, I'm going to take what I can get, and I'm going to work for what I don't have. I'm going to keep my head up and take each moment as it comes. Alexander faced some pretty tough times, granted some he brought upon himself, but nevertheless he came out on the other side.

In my search for freedom and happiness, I am looking to the world around me for signs. I firmly believe everything happens for a reason, and I believe that some things are just too much to be a coincidence. After struggling through the last two weeks of December, on the first of the year I found a ten dollar bill in my till at work that had the words "one day at a time," written on it. To me, it was a clear sign; maybe one from the universe, maybe one from the founding father himself. Either way, my new mantra.

So goodbye to 2016, and all that you taught me, and hello to 2017 and all that you have yet to show me. Let me remember my worth, and my happiness, and my freedom.

One day at a time.