From the Archives: The Twenty Fourth Year
The past year has been an absolute deluge of highs and lows - victories and defeats. A lot of moments that can’t be put into words - a quality only the best and worst feelings tend to carry. Life felt unreal - I quit my “dream” job, launched a brand, moved into my own apartment, got my Masters degree, strengthened old relationships, fed the hungry, listened to understand, the list goes on - but it’s boring and narcissistic so I will spare you.
Amongst all this good however, there was a raw, incessantly nagging feeling of fear, impatience and discontent. There were many times I felt as though I could barely swim let alone navigate the thickness of my own expectations. It was mud. I had taken so much of the routine for granted pre-pandemic. I was grieving that version of me. I barely got to know this version but still liked her nonetheless. I had surrendered an entire year to the pandemic. Life felt unfair and so fucking uncertain. Even knowing that these feelings were imminent amongst many individuals worldwide, I found no community within the shared loneliness (I mean, does anybody?) There was so much wanting. Wanting to ask for help but feeling too old to call home, wanting to help others but feeling too distanced, wanting to change but fearing who I would become/if that was the “right” version of me or worse yet, how I would sustain a “new” version of me.
After quitting my job, life began to shift. I met a family in Chelsea and started nannying for their twins full time.The juvenile, mundane principals that we all picked up during quarantine out of boredom - baking a cake, drawing a picture, building a snowman, reading (or learning how to) - were far from mundane to two tiny humans who were born in 2015. Watching the twins opened my eyes to how exciting the novelties of each day could be. I started approaching each day as though it was the first time I was living it. After all, that’s exactly what I was doing. That’s what we’re all doing…right? Life became interesting again, not because each day was exceptional by any means (some of the most interesting days were in fact the days that were by no means classifiably exceptional) but contrarily because at the core of all this existence - it was simply a new day, a new opportunity. In perceiving the world through the lens of these 5 year old children, I was able to find parts of me that I’m not sure I would have ever found otherwise.
This year, I found that accepting love outside of romantic partnerships is a force much greater than anything I have ever experienced. I found being alone doesn’t equate to being lonely. Even in the times I am alone, I am not lonely and even in the times I am impatient or waiting, I am not falling behind. I found that there is no end all be all plan, so things will never not go as planned, they just won’t go as I have planned and whilst surrendering control can certainly be frustrating, I can’t control everything and that is okay (read: challenging, but okay.) That is not failing. There is so much freedom in surrendering control. Freedom to grow, evolve and unapologetically exist.
I owe an extremely hefty thank you to my friends who have become family during the past two years in this “dead” city. Thank you isn’t really sufficient enough when their existence has saved my life. As I sit here days before this post will go live, I am filled with gratitude, love, hope and optimism. If you’ve found yourself relating to anything I’ve metaphorically regurgitated here, I want you to know that whilst I don’t know what it’s like on the other side of these uncertain feelings. I do know, that we are navigating this life together hand in hand and maybe that anecdote can provide you with some minuscule grain of peace….. or maybe chaos….I’m not the greatest when it comes to geography. Good times guaranteed though!
Nevertheless, I am happy to explore this life alongside you. I’m not sure what the future holds, but I am certain that we will be alright. Thank You. I love you always.
x
MG
