We create our own demons.
(Yeah, yeah, I know it’s a quote from Iron Man 3, but bear with me here.)
My 5-year LA-iversary is today, and I felt it fitting to jot some personal nonsense down in here. On this day, I rolled up to my new home and life right around .. now. Living here has been a formative experience, and I was a different person when I pulled out of the driveway of my NJ childhood home in 2011.
Looking back on my 20s and my formative years has always been mortifying, to be completely honest. I read and reflect on the things I used to feel, things I used to care about, and the shit I used to say and how I treated people and I am mostly .. upset. Not that I was ever some monstrous lunatic hellbent on world domination, but I definitely could have treated people with more care. I took things and people for granted, I lived my life recklessly and did whatever whenever (within reason, obvi).
And if I’m being realistic, I don’t regret most of it; after all, that’s what your 20s are for. But if I could go back in a time machine, I’d be kinder. That’s really the only thing I’d change.. more patience, more kindness. It’s one of the notions my mother stressed as The Most Important Things in Life, and of course she’s spot on. I guess being a human dumpster fire was my way of rebelling for whatever unknown reason. Looking back and surveying the damage was daunting.
Now, I know none of this makes me some ~unique snowflake~. Nearly everyone I encounter is horrified by some aspect of their past; I felt the need to write because I’ve never talked publicly about any of this. I play everything pretty close to the chest. I’ve touched on it, sure, but never gone into any sort of detail.
This all started partly because I’ve been getting a lot of emails/actual mail about my 10 year (!) college reunion, which was last weekend. Generally irritating, but also a fact of life; college is a time that I do not wish to be reminded of in the least, but I feel compelled to reflect. I graduated in 2006, and never looked back. Even with my BA in hand, I generally felt like a listless shitperson next to my classmates with business degrees and jobs lined up. Me? I was going to work at The Gap, and take it from there. Christ.
2010 in particular was a strange year of unemployment and anxiety and stress framed with a lot of fun, late nights, and coming back out of my shell thanks to actually being close with people again. Slowly but surely I felt like I had value again, and that I was someone worth knowing.
At this point I was beginning to excavate my core so I could get back to being a Human Lady in a Society of Rules. I had no fucking idea what my next step was, but I knew I needed to change. I started surrounding myself with positive people and genuinely made every effort to be less awful. I axed trash people along the way and felt free.
Moving to Los Angeles has given me the rare gift of forced perspective that I badly needed, and I hope it’s not too late. I laid really good groundwork in NJ, but blasting off out of my comfort zone was that final push I needed to vaguely get my shit together. Or at least impersonate someone who had their shit together.
For all intents and purposes, I’ve lived a charmed life. Nowadays it’s trendy to talk about Privilege(TM), but brass tacks– what could I possibly have been so fucking unhappy about? I grew up in a really great area, surrounded by a rotating cast of good people who stuck by my side for nearly 27 years. I never had anything truly horrendous happen to me, yet I was lost.
I have wonderful parents, a strong family support system, and friends who feel more like family since we all grew up together in multiple senses. And yet, I had this lethargic rancor eating away at me. For whatever reason, in spite of all of this, I shut off at any sign of closeness. Maybe it was the past relationships gone sour, maybe I got too into my own headspace. Maybe I had focused on the wrong things.
It hits me in waves to this day, how many fucking great friends and family I’ve got, how lucky I really am. It sincerely overwhelmed me at the wedding last year, all that love and kindness. Why did I push it away with both hands for so long? The hell was that all about? Awkward.
As I dug deeper, I had longed for something indescribable. I always felt hollow at the end of the day, some static hum. I would stay up all night because the morning sun made me feel better somehow, a habit I picked up in the depth of being a college shithead with too many feelings/no feelings at all. But when I eventually started to turn shit around in 2009 and firmly place my gaze toward what was in front of me, that was the turning point. Suddenly a weight had been lifted, like mom coming back to me and saying, “knock this shit off already and get on with it”. Guess I was finally ready to listen.. and somewhere, mom is replying, “about fucking time”.
Driving out to California was more cathartic than it was intimidating or sad. It’s been a second chance, a clean slate for me. I met my husband here, I’ve been able to start relatively fresh these past 5 years. I’ve been faced with my own bullshit, felt it all, and essentially gotten on with it with confidence. Taking ownership and responsibility for past garbage behaviour has been equal parts humbling and uncomfortable. Shedding any lingering negative people has helped as well.
When Nick and I met at San Diego Comic Con in 2011 and I soon figured out that he was more than some one night rando to add to the carousel, I was objectively fucking terrified. I had a terrible track record with prior relationships, and generally felt inadequate in that regard.
So, what the hell does this all mean? How can I wrap this up neatly? Truth be told, I can’t. Just gotta keep on going.