An introductory bite Not to be cliche, but I feel I’ve the onus to introduce this text, as I about to embark on a journey of self-discovery, as well as self-definition, and I believe it is of utmost importance to establish the background pertinent to understanding from what exact spot — physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, etc. etc. — I currently auspicate into the unknown of my future. The penultimate time I found myself in this situation, I was driving Moxie (my yellow, ‘99 VW New Beetle), largely attempting to ignore my mother in the passenger seat and listening to Fergie’s, “Glamorous” on repeat. Just under 1000 miles and I was pulling into my grandma’s driveway in Fond du Lac, Wisconsin, to what would be my new residence (I’d stay in Fondy to take a year off before college, but I’d be staying in Wisconsin for the next half decade). Looking back, I stand assured that I would have been one jolted and confused 18-year-old had a brief description of just who I was about to become in that year ahead would have fallen mysteriously into my hands. I certainly didn’t expect to become a competitive West Coast Swing Dancer, nor did I expect to be working 80 hour weeks between three jobs - one of which a 12 hour a day factory job in which I’d spend hours degreasing Playboy covers and spreads en route to the Playboy Mansion. But above all, if you would have told that innocent 18 year old that in less than a year she’d be madly in love with an adorable, also Coloradan, freckly redheaded GIRL… well, she probably would have just laughed, certain you’d gotten your story mixed up. Of course, the difference between that new beginning and the one currently placed in front of me is choice. That brave, confident 18-year-old chose to move 1000 miles away from home and start afresh. She’d experienced all of the wonderfulness she thought Colorado had to offer her at that time and was ready to move forward. And she was right. But this 21-year-old sitting on her bed with her loyal stuffed dog, listening to songs on repeat that remind her of when she felt comfortable with things? She didn’t directly choose this change in front of her. Indirectly, yeah… sure. But directly? Definitely not. Boyfriend moved back to Brazil and settling into his old, life-before-semester-abroad-in-America. Ex-girlfriend en route to Oregon to follow her dreams of living among nature and being free from expectation of those who knew her through hard phases of her life and came to expect one version of her when she really wanted to blossom into the New Her. Friends graduated and moved on. New, amazing job starting tomorrow. New abode excited to have me move in this weekend. Hell, I’m even dying my hair and getting a professional haircut and new underwear in the next week! And so I’m working on embracing the fact that it is now time for a Whole new Me, as my life as I knew it slips out of present focus and into the past. My bite-size life is no longer prepackaged, but is about to be made completely from scratch. I need a new recipe - fix those little aftertastes that weren’t quite right… those lumpy parts that weren’t ever mixed in well enough… make it a little sweeter… a little less salty and tart. It’s not about succeeding. I can’t fail. But even knowing this, all this change all at once is making me less excited than I anticipated and, instead, is causing me to feel like I just got picked up my an emotional tornado.

An introductory bite

Not to be cliche, but I feel I’ve the onus to introduce this text, as I about to embark on a journey of self-discovery, as well as self-definition, and I believe it is of utmost importance to establish the background pertinent to understanding from what exact spot — physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, etc. etc. — I currently auspicate into the unknown of my future.

The penultimate time I found myself in this situation, I was driving Moxie (my yellow, ‘99 VW New Beetle), largely attempting to ignore my mother in the passenger seat and listening to Fergie’s, “Glamorous” on repeat. Just under 1000 miles and I was pulling into my grandma’s driveway in Fond du Lac, Wisconsin, to what would be my new residence (I’d stay in Fondy to take a year off before college, but I’d be staying in Wisconsin for the next half decade).

Looking back, I stand assured that I would have been one jolted and confused 18-year-old had a brief description of just who I was about to become in that year ahead would have fallen mysteriously into my hands. I certainly didn’t expect to become a competitive West Coast Swing Dancer, nor did I expect to be working 80 hour weeks between three jobs - one of which a 12 hour a day factory job in which I’d spend hours degreasing Playboy covers and spreads en route to the Playboy Mansion. But above all, if you would have told that innocent 18 year old that in less than a year she’d be madly in love with an adorable, also Coloradan, freckly redheaded GIRL… well, she probably would have just laughed, certain you’d gotten your story mixed up.

Of course, the difference between that new beginning and the one currently placed in front of me is choice. That brave, confident 18-year-old chose to move 1000 miles away from home and start afresh. She’d experienced all of the wonderfulness she thought Colorado had to offer her at that time and was ready to move forward. And she was right.

But this 21-year-old sitting on her bed with her loyal stuffed dog, listening to songs on repeat that remind her of when she felt comfortable with things? She didn’t directly choose this change in front of her. Indirectly, yeah… sure. But directly? Definitely not.

Boyfriend moved back to Brazil and settling into his old, life-before-semester-abroad-in-America. Ex-girlfriend en route to Oregon to follow her dreams of living among nature and being free from expectation of those who knew her through hard phases of her life and came to expect one version of her when she really wanted to blossom into the New Her. Friends graduated and moved on. New, amazing job starting tomorrow. New abode excited to have me move in this weekend.

Hell, I’m even dying my hair and getting a professional haircut and new underwear in the next week!

And so I’m working on embracing the fact that it is now time for a Whole new Me, as my life as I knew it slips out of present focus and into the past. My bite-size life is no longer prepackaged, but is about to be made completely from scratch. I need a new recipe - fix those little aftertastes that weren’t quite right… those lumpy parts that weren’t ever mixed in well enough… make it a little sweeter… a little less salty and tart.

It’s not about succeeding. I can’t fail. But even knowing this, all this change all at once is making me less excited than I anticipated and, instead, is causing me to feel like I just got picked up my an emotional tornado.