So. You’re curious to know who is even writing this blog anyway?!
I’m a Floridian, twice removed (from the state). Three years ago I moved to New York State to earn a Masters in Mental Health Counseling and to run away from grief and essentially, myself. While I expected a counseling program to challenge me, I didn’t expect the personal struggles NY would bring. And although the years were filled with tremendous trials, I wouldn’t ever take back the decision to move to the frigid North.
It shattered me, which eventually taught me that I could piece myself back together. And in a better way.
Being broken is not the end. I was a cracked stained glass for so long. NY was the wind that finally caused all the shards to fall to the ground.
It’s tedious and ugly (bloody) to piece (figurative) glass back together. It’s time-consuming and painful, and a lot of times, I just wanted to leave myself as I was. Until I’d remember the joy and ‘life’ I was missing out on.
I faced some of my demons (perfectionism [the main topic of this blog], complicated grief, shame), made deals with the devil (mistakes/regrets), and began learning self-compassion (a difficult, long-winded task).
I’m still struggling and thriving every day.
In May of this year, I moved to Portland, OR–not for school, not for a boy (or girl), not with a boy (or girl), not even for a job. (Risky, they said. Sure, risky, I agreed.)
I moved for me. I moved for the gut instinct that life in Oregon was what I craved. I wanted the mountains, the valleys, the waterfalls, the green. I wanted Portland for the people and job opportunity. I wanted change. And for once, it wasn’t to run from something I didn’t want to face. Rather, it was to run towards something I hoped would make me feel alive.
Before I left NY, I got into stand-up comedy and storytelling. I hope to continue that here. Maybe I’ll fail. Maybe I’ll soar. Maybe life is about doing both, consistently.
I hope you enjoy some of my writing and blatant humanity here.
All the world,