"NOW DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT I'M NEVER CHANGING WHO I AM?" -IMAGINE DRAGONS

My whole life I have felt like a late bloomer. I have always done things much later than my friends or other people I knew. I didn't get my first kiss until I was 15. Actually, really just a couple weeks before I turned 16. I smoked pot and started drinking for the first time when I was 18. Lost my virginity at 19. Got my bachelor's degree at age 29. And my master's at age 33. Each step of my life has been later than most people experience it. But, I think this has prepared me for my life. MY life. I'm 33 and divorced for the second time. I find myself thinking about how quickly I'm going to wake up and be 40 and then 50. But, I actually don't fear it at all. Maybe I'm just used to it. Feeling far behind the world. Completely out of place. Completely misunderstood. Sometimes I wonder why I am this way. Then I stop myself. Because if I pulled at that thread, I would go down a rabbit hole of hating myself for every little thing I've ever done wrong, failed at, fucked up. And everything I've ever failed at, done wrong, or fucked up is what brought me here, to this very moment. A moment of honest to god clarity, honesty, peace.

Every year something happens to me. And every year, I forget about it until it happens. It's kind of like when you're a bitch to people for a whole week and can't figure out why. And then you start your period and you're like ohhhhhh. As if you don't have your period every single month and the same shit doesn't happen like clockwork. It's like that. Except, every year, approximately six months after my birthday, I finally feel my age, emotionally. I finally feel one year older. I turned 33 on February 17th, but today, September 15, 2018, I feel 33. Finally. This is yet another thing that makes me a late bloomer. It is seriously like a strange epiphany that happens around 6 months after my birthday, every year. Anything that I'm still holding onto, I let go. Anything I'm still working on, gets finished. And it feels like the end of an era. And tomorrow I will wake up and things will be different.

That happened to me tonight.

I have been holding onto the book "Wild" for months. I attempted to read it a couple times but kept putting it down. Not out of lack of interest, but because in the first chapter she goes, very much, in depth about how her mother dies. I couldn't get through that part. Psychoanalyze me all you want but I'll save you the brain cells. It's because I miss my mom. Every day. (Well, the mom I wish my mom still was.) Happy? Okay, moving on. So, I've been holding onto this book and holding off on watching the movie until I actually read the book. But, I got tired of pretending like I was ever going to get through the book. So, I bought the movie on Amazon tonight. Let me just set the record straight and say that I have wanted to hike the Pacific Crest Trail since before this movie was even released and this book became popular.

But, that's actually not what moved me about this movie. Her story before she decided to hike the trail was shocking. Completely unexpected. But it got me thinking about how her life is not-so-exactly, exactly like mine. By that I mean, everyone's shit is the same. It all looks so different. But, it's actually exactly the same. I found myself relating to her, even when I couldn't relate to anything she'd been through. I related to her pain. The need to find something to hold onto. The desire to start over fresh. The aspiration to heal whatever is broken. I think that's what Spain is for me. Her PCT is my Spain. And her book, is my blog.

Looking back now, to February of this year, when I applied to teach English as a second language (ESL) in Spain, I was absolutely, without a doubt, running away. Running away from my divorce, from the people I hated, from my family, from society. I was dying to find a new way of life. New people. I was supposed to leave last month. Originally, I had applied for this school year. I am supposed to be in Spain right now. But, I'm a late bloomer. So, I postponed my application a year in order to save money. But what it's actually done, is it's forced me to deal with my shit. I question if I'll go next August. Not because I'm scared or because I never really wanted to go, but because there is something that changes in us when we feel healed and we don't see the need to run away anymore. But really though, I'm totally going.

Most people who know me would probably tell you that my biggest flaw is my impulsivity. And although I never saw it as a flaw, it has caused me to make a lot of wrong turns in my life. None of which I regret, but it's not a secret that I've worked harder and not smarter in my lifetime. After my divorce, I decided that I was going to stop being impulsive. This was not a new year's resolution. Fuck new year's resolutions. Meaningless. This is just something I did. Like when you jump up on a Wednesday and decide that today is the day you will start working out, rather than waiting until Monday. I had $17,000 when I got divorced. I could have done anything, gone anywhere. But, I stayed. I forced myself to sign a year lease on my apartment. I postponed my Spain experience. And I sat. And sat. And sat. And thought. And danced. And laughed. And smoked. And drank. And had a lot of sex... Then I grew. And I found peace. But I'm so not even close to done.

I have only just begun. Just because you get an A on your first paper, doesn't mean you're done with the semester. I have this nasty habit of thinking that because I have succeeded in one part of life, that I know everything or that I'm done. I won't make this mistake again. When I began to live my life presently, my vision completely changed. How I felt about everything and everyone, changed. Side note on living presently: this looks different for everyone and some may thing it's a bit "hokey" but I'm telling you, you'll know when you're living presently. I preached mindfulness, took classes on it, taught it to my clients, and talked about it in all of my sessions but never was I actually doing it. In fact, I can think of many times that my clients were being more present than myself. For me, living presently is having no fear of the past or the future. It's sitting in silence and actually sitting in silence. It's eating food and actually tasting it. It's having sex and having no body image issues. Seeing, smelling, tasting, feeling every single thing that's happening to you in that very moment and not questioning it. Not judging it. Not judging yourself. For me, living presently, is absolute and total trust in yourself and in your path. And that. That, I have accomplished.

But, there's no doubt in my mind that I still have work to do. This was part of my epiphany tonight. I've mentioned a guy a few times in this blog. It blows my mind that I ever, ever, ever, ever thought that it was something special. Ever. Actually I'm embarrassed for myself. My view of this changed so quickly, that I actually just wrote to him on Instagram TODAY telling him that I missed him. And tonight, I feel totally different about it. And it's not that situation where you block the person because you're "over it," just to unblock them the next day in hopes that it might work out in your favor, and they will contact you again. Nope. Don't worry, I did all that. FOR MONTHS. But, tonight things are different. Tonight I know I'm better than that. Tonight, I am rid of any and all thoughts that I need anything from him. Not long ago I posted a post of acceptance that "if he wanted to be with me, he would be." And I really did believe that at the time, but at the same time, I wasn't ready to let go. I have finally let go.

So, yes, I'm living presently. Yes, I am happy-ish. And yes, I have found peace. But, I still struggle with knowing my worth. I still doubt myself every single day. I still eat my feelings and I still cry alone in my room. Not because I'm sad, really. Not because I don't believe that I am worth it, necessarily. But because I fear I'll never open up again. As I said in my last blog, I fight the societal train daily. I want so desperately to not need anyone or anything, ever again. Yet, I cannot fight off this loneliness. But, I do it to myself. Anytime anyone talks to me, I walk away. Every time someone likes me, I push them away. I sabotage possible relationship, even just friendships, because I am terrified of giving myself to anyone ever again.

I know that doubting yourself is a perfectly normal thing to do. But, I tend to self-sabotage. I pride myself on being someone who is always and forever open to love. But, I don't know that I am anymore. Let me get something straight. I do not look at two divorces as a failure. I gave my EVERYTHING in those marriages. I gave up pieces of myself that no one should ever give up. But, I did that, because I love hard. But, I also love too long. I give too much. And I think I have given up so much of myself, that I honestly feel like there may not be anymore to give. So, here I am, lonely but completely unwilling to open up to anyone. This limbo that will not go away until I heal. I have no idea what I need to do or how I am going to do it. I think it's just going to take time. Maybe it'll be 6 months after my next birthday.

But here's what I know for sure.

It doesn't matter how long it takes. It doesn't matter that my life experiences are timed differently. I may be a late bloomer, but maybe that's because I don't leave anything to chance. Maybe it's because I spend so much time thinking, reflecting, and self-correcting, that it takes me longer to get to a solution. And maybe that's okay. If living presently means to trust yourself completely and trust in the path that you're on, then I trust that these answers will be found. It has only been 10 months since I left my husband. Who's to say that I need to be all put back together again, yet? The changes I made to my impulsivity has helped me to actually take the time to heal. But, whose time am I really on? Late bloomer or not, I'm on my time.