Embracing the cliché
5:50pm PST and I’m lattering my birthday suit with a L’occitane body wash getting ready to head out to Santa Monica with a friend I made on the internet. It was a heavy week so I cued an episode of Emma Chamberlain’s podcast as I’m having several internal dialogues. I slip on a dress I got from the Zara clearance section a few months back when I was Atlanta, this time around It fits beautifully because I dropped several pounds with my unintentional intermittent fasting sponsored by my quite expensive + exclusive gym membership (Don't tell my Haitian mom that I pay $130 a month to be hot).
7:15 pm I’m entering the Valet at the Santa Monica Proper to meet with my friend. There she was, waiting for me to arrive in a tucked away Oasis in the middle of Los Angeles, we Kiki over silly little cocktails and boy stories, we then talked about astrology, artistry, living as our authentic selves, navigating life in major cities, traveling and essentially maxing out our 20’s.
I then asked her, how did she conclude that she was in the right career as an artist. She explains to me how drawing has always been embedded in her, she tried to please her parents and follow the playbook but coming back to her art was her safe space, for a long time she had to explain what she does for a living until she no longer had to because she was so secure within her craft that she no longer felt the need to. I'm sitting across her hearing these words echoing in my subconscious that resonated so deeply, providing comfort like a message in a bottle from the Universe telling me that I was on the right path in my soul journey - I never stopped thinking about this conversation. Summer 2023: July
The audacity 🤝🏽 My ministry
My life's been one helluva twisted rollercoaster since last fall. In just a few weeks, I watched my previous identity crumble to dust, and I initially chose dissociation as my ticket outta the chaos; purest form of coping. As a control freak with a type-A personality, let me tell you, what doesn't break you first demands that you get selfish, and then it pumps you full of iron.
What doesn't kill you doesn’t necessarily make you stronger, but the truth is, it first teaches you to put yourself first. In my quarter-century existence, I've crammed enough life experience into these years to outshine a few decades worth of tales so I’ll tell you one
On the first day of fall 2021, I booked a one-way flight to Los Angeles. The mere fact that I got approved for an apartment and needed a change of scenery drove this decision. LA had been the dream for a while. Even as a college student with a very limited budget back then, I told everyone who was a close acquaintance that it would be the next move after University. As someone whose external circumstances didn't reflect my wishes, it's understandable that this would be interpreted as sheer delusion, and reasonably so by others. Oh well...
Fast forward to a higher timeline, and here I was, living the dream just as I had imagined. Amidst my yearnings, I somehow convinced myself that I wanted to become an immigration attorney, graduate from UCLA, land a big law job, work tirelessly for a decade, and then relocate to Benahavís with my future husband. There, I'd revel in being a stay-at-home wife, exploring my creative hobbies before diving into parenthood (by the way, that latter part is still part of the plan). It was all within my grasp, but what people often don't discuss when it comes to the things you convince yourself you yearn for is that life might just grant you exactly what you wished for to see if it's truly what you desire.
As it turned out, the whole corporate lawyer-robot turned arm candy dream-girl pipeline wasn't exactly what I truly desired. How did I figure this out? Well, I landed a job at an Immigration firm as a USCIS Paralegal, but during my hour-long commute, I found myself shedding tears multiple times. I loathed the company, despised the culture, and had nothing but disdain for the CEO. It was bewildering to think I had spent all those years convincing myself that this was my ultimate goal, only to attain it and discover overwhelming misery.
Then came the end of September, and the company decided that I didn't fit their culture. That, in a way, was my ticket to freedom. So, on that fateful day, I handed in my parking pass to HR and drove home with "Comfortably Numb" by Pink Floyd blasting from my speakers
I stopped to get Afters ice cream on my way home and got on the phone to break to news to my relatives that I decided to no longer pursue law and that I was strictly gearing towards a career in Media.
For the first time in a while I was honest with myself and had no regret about outgrowing things that no longer resonated.
The aftermath of this upheaval left me in a state of profound self-questioning. I was acutely aware that I had just taken one of the biggest risks of my life. For several days, I remained cocooned in my bed, lost in contemplation about the immense significance of what had just transpired.
Surprisingly, in the midst of incessant harassment calls from HR and the COO, all demanding an explanation for my refusal to sign a release form, and coupled with the insultingly meager severance check they handed me (which was honestly worth less than several pairs of shoes in my closet), I made a bold decision. I booked a flight to attend Miami carnival as originally planned. The way I saw it, the show must go on, and I would figure out the rest later.
Fall 2022: September/October
What the fuck?
When I got back to LA. I had exactly a month to pack my apartment and figure out what the next step was after carnival.
Consumed by the relentless pursuit of my overachiever agenda, a text from my step-sister shattered my bubble when she delivered the news that my stepmom passed away from Cancer.
I wailed from the deepest corners of my soul, for it felt as if my world had crumbled in the blink of an eye. Nothing else held any importance, not even the long-awaited admission email from one of the most esteemed Communications schools in the country that followed minutes after. I denied myself the opportunity to properly celebrate and acknowledge the monumental achievement because, instead, I found myself having to help coordinate her funeral.
Simultaneously, I had to pack my entire life into Uhaul boxes, preparing for the movers to come. I’m sure A piece of myself died that day along with her
Self-ish ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
The initial months of 2023 unfolded with themes of Grief, Loss, Betrayal, and Confusion taking the center stage of my human existence. So, I chose to embrace numbness, seeking solace in unhealthy coping mechanisms. It was then that I made the call by seeking refuge in another mother life gifted me. That's when it hit me that I had willingly allowed trauma to sculpt me.
Life is funny because in the span of a year I experienced mountain tops and river deeps since time and fate stops for no one and
No matter what, "il faut passer a autre chose".
On the first night back in my own bed, tears flowed freely until 5 a.m. It was there, in my solitude, that I confronted the brutal truth that I was severely depressed.
Those two weeks I initially planned to be home for unraveled into a month, which then gently unfurled into the span of several months devoted to tending the wounds that had long festered within me. Each morning, I woke up to the world's embrace, laying myself down in the grass to hear birds chirping, yearning for a spark of sensation in my numb existence.
Solitude became my companion as I rediscovered the enchantment of the small town that shaped the person I am today. I found comfort in the waves at the beach, sought solace in the sanctity of Shabbat services, and expressed my love to relatives who had been, for too long, taken for granted. I met my newborn niece and 2 year old nephew, gazing upon the promise of new life, and in those precious moments, I was reminded of the greatest treasure we so often overlook. The little things.
For a good chunk of my life, I found myself tiptoeing around who I really was, shaping myself to fit into the mold society expected. I willingly took on every curveball life threw at me, and for a while, I just went with the flow, feeling defeated. But then, something clicked, and I knew it was time to rediscover the real me. Somewhere down the line, I just forgot to take care of myself. I hadn't really opened up to anyone for months about the inner battles I was fighting even before everything fell apart.
It was no surprise that some folks drifted away because, well, our connection had faded. Deep down, I was craving understanding from people who in hindsight couldn't give a shit about me. Often times, the people we reach out to for comfort have a front row ticket plotting to witness your misery and that’s the biggest lesson I had to face this year. I wish it didn't have to get to the point where I had so little left to give, even to myself. But here's the twist, and it's kind of funny to admit—I just don't give a damn anymore.
Everything I do from here on out will come from a cup that's finally filling up enough for me to share, but only in moderation. It's high time I live a little bit of life just for myself.
As I embarked on this personal revival, I realized there were so many things I couldn't put up with anymore, especially when it came to superficial relationships, giving away my power, dealing with manipulation, and carrying the weight of other people's issues. The losses I'd experienced served as powerful reminders of how I'd let myself be a certain way for others, often neglecting what really mattered to me and the people I deeply care about.
The only path towards reconstructing the hierarchy of my priorities involved stripping it bare, starting from the very foundation, and resolutely placing my most primal needs at the forefront. It was a slow, deliberate process of replenishing my own cup, one that some might call selfish.
And yes, it’ been a very selfish season, I suppose. Yet, I discovered a profound sense of renewal and I’m a big fan of the person it made me.
