Do not read!!!
Hello there,
From the land of far-far away. In lieu of everything going on in my life I found myself in a bad place in late fall last year. Not sure if I’ve written about it before. But either way, here’s what happened. A very classy cocktail of a quarter life crisis, garnished with a new business and all the stress that comes with it.
Jokes aside, I really was struggling. Navigating the ins and outs of my newfound, and chosen, responsibilities took an incredible toll. A big reason why I opted to carve out my own corner in the universe was because I very desperately needed a place to be myself. I stayed too long in a space I knew I wasn’t welcome and suffered from the delusion that if I kept trying hard enough that it would be enough. That I would eventually be someone that could be recognized as trustworthy, dependable. But the thing about bottomless cups is that they never fill.
I spent so much time being a version of myself that I abandoned my own self completely. The most cruel and horrifying reflection is the one you don’t recognize. A lot of my personal growth stemmed from being in survival mode, thriving off of spite, and desperation to be loved. To be seen. Now that I was in a place where none of those things were tools useful to my life I was lost. It was terrifying. I would wake up having panic attacks. I was depressed. I hurt the people I loved. How did I manage to stray so far from the path I intended for myself? Why wasn’t the simple act of love and kindness enough to be a driving factor for a happy life for myself anymore? Wait, was that last part even true? Was that what I was really doing?
In January, I had enough. I couldn’t even handle a basic working schedule. I was drowning. Making commitments to things I had to back out of, because I had an appointment with self loathing instead and existential dread. I wasn’t the person I wanted to be.
So who did I want to be?
I could get extremely philosophical about this but I’ll save you the tangent. I wanted to continue that love is my legacy. It really is so powerful. Love my work. Love my friends. Love my clients. Love my family. I want to encase my life in the love I have for all the people I come into contact with. This is still true. A cornerstone of who I am, if you will. But I realized I never left love myself on that list. I wasn’t even kind to myself. I lost control of my physical health. I wasn’t doing things I enjoyed and was worried about the judgement of others if I did do something I did enjoy. Letting myself go like this was a big problem because it directly conflicts with my moral compass. The thing about being human is that negative things will impact us tenfold more than joyful things ever will. I know this. And I stopped seeking out the joy in my life. You have to be purposeful on that front. It won’t just happen because you want it to. There is work to be done in all facets of life.
And oh man, did I have a lot of work to do.
I decided to book a trip to the Netherlands. I had been to London, recently too, but I that entire trip was a dream. Full of the most beautiful memories. This trip would not be that. I went to the Netherlands to get away from everyone and everything I knew (except for English) and to have a hard reset. To reconnect with the roots of myself. To NOT work. And working was extremely enticing—let me tell you. I needed to disconnect for a month. Do things I enjoyed. Get bored. Explore. Meet new people, and try to be myself around them. The days leading up to me leaving were horrible. I cried a lot. I didn’t want to be away from my home. I didn’t want to be alone. (If you don’t know anything about me, or if you couldn’t tell, I fucking hate being alone.)
Then, I realized, I just forgot how to be alone. Because I didn’t really like who I was, I didn’t like being alone with that person. And now being on the other side of the fence I do have to say that life is much more enjoyable when I can share it with others. Eating alone in restaurants isn’t sad. What’s sad is only ordering two things and not being able to try more things on the menu. Museums, however, are truly best enjoyed by myself.
I left home feeling really lost. Sad. Fragmented. I mean, I think I still feel some of those things. But they aren’t screaming as loud as they used to. I felt debilitated by responsibilities at the studio, emails, my physical and spiritual self. I let a lot of what I knew I needed to do slip. I wasn’t drawing. I was in a weird space. I was self aware enough to know it wasn’t okay. But I was also doing nothing to change it.
I’m feeling a lot better now. I’m ready to be the person I promised myself I would be. A great artist, business owner, and friend. I want to do more things, and I believe that can do them. Not just because I’m riding a vacation-high. But because I feel like for the first time in forever I am living for myself and my own personal goals.
Thank you to everyone who’s loved me in all phases of my life. My parents patience with my absence. My partner, for believing in me when I didn’t believe in myself.
I want to paint the world. I am looking forward to seeing what that looks like.