To say I came to Chicago like a wrecking ball would be the understatement of the year.
I got a job. Lost my grandma. Quickly found a place. And moved.
Maybe it wasn’t the best time, but it has proved to be one of the best decisions I could have made.
Never in my life have I felt more comfortable and sure of myself.
Yes, I get scared. Yes, I get lonely. Yes, I get anxious.
But I feel so content being me and making decisions that are solely for my best interest, and I have never felt so comfortable in my skin.
I finally feel like my life has come together in the sense that I have rid myself of so much self-doubt. I cannot tell you how many days I have spent waking up and wanting so badly to be anyone but me. To be the conventionally pretty girl. To be the girl who was really good at science and is going to be some wonderful doctor. To be the girl who was an artist and was interested in obscure poets. To be the world traveler. To be anyone but who I was born as. I looked for clubs to lose myself in, for crushes to obsess and lust over, for girls to constantly be envious of-Anything that made me lose focus on who I was and what I needed.
Moving to Chicago to start a new job where you know no one doesn’t really allow for you to be wrapped up in others. It has been me, myself and I in my apartment. No one to run to. Just space where I am forced to be genuinely and unequivocally me. It has been the biggest blessing I could ever get. After losing the matriarch of our family, I felt like everything I previously knew drastically changed, and that is still true. But in this time of immense change, I have become so grounded in who I am and who I am not.
It is like for once, I can see so clearly. I hope this does not come across as selfish, but I can see what matters to me. I can see what I need.
For example, I have gone on quite a few dates recently, but haven’t spent the entire time wondering if I am good enough/pretty enough/funny enough for the other person. I have genuinely wondered if they are good enough for me. And if they aren’t, then I move on. I no longer have this fear that I am branded and looked down upon for being single. Or worry I am going to die alone. I feel full on my own. I am spending Friday night by myself at Target and have never been happier about it. It might not be what everyone else is doing, but it is what is making me happy.
Now, I have not become some sort of recluse; I still have all of these great people close to me and involved in my life, but I finally feel secure in myself. Secure enough to be independent and walk this world going down the path that is right for me.
I am done people pleasing. I am done trying to determine what other people are thinking. I am done pouring myself into other people, especially those who are undeserving. I am done loathing the way I look, or living my life with “what ifs.”
I am who I am, and probably am not going to change much more. Not saying that I am not about self-improvement, but my core has been developing for 22 years and I think it is in pretty good shape. I am happy with the way I turned out. I feel full. I feel healed.
It just took a move to the big city for me to realize it.