Thank You, Apartment, for Who I’ve Become Here
Most of what I’ve written in the past year came about on this sofa.
Today saw the last leisurely morning I will spend in this apartment. It is, as many endings often are, a bittersweet closing to a chapter in the book of my life.
I have lived here for just over a year; here, in this place which I found because at the time I found it, I deeply needed space.
Space to settle, space to grow, space to explore some uncharted depths of my heart and my soul.
A Place to Grow
I have learned, in my 35 years here on earth, that space is vital to a healing and growing heart.
There are few things like space which can so quickly either make or break your spirit.
After all, if you have never had the space to learn the sound of your own voice, how are you to do so in the company of others?
If you continue to stay in a space which activates your deepest shadows without end, how are you to ever come up for air to breathe?
And so, for the past year, I have given myself this space, and right alongside it, I have watched myself shift and transform into the person I am today.
Nothing Happens in a Vacuum
What stands out the strongest during my time in this apartment is the way in which my relationships have changed (indeed, when you give yourself space to learn your own ins and outs, to hear the whispers of your deepest truth, inevitably, your relationships will change right alongside).
Early on in my time here, this space saw me lose a once dear friend — not an isolated occurrence in my life, but it remains a tough one none the less.
Typically bringing about more questions than answers, the dissolution of a friendship seems to be one of life’s more curious mysteries. When we are left wondering how it happened and what could have gone differently, especially as there is no particular quota for the amount of friends a human may have, we are often left to dig deep into the friendship we have with ourselves if we are ever to move through it.
It is not an overstatement to say that the key to much of my transforming in this space has been learning how to be my own best friend first (a deeper dive will definitely be done here, on another day of writing, and oh…it will be a good one).
Meanwhile, as it goes, when one thing goes, space is made for a new thing to come.
A Test of Champions
For the first time in my life, I began to go on dates. A new experience for me, as my past two long-term relationships were born out of friendships I’d made at school and work, respectively.
Internet friend, if the ending of a friendship is hard, let’s try the experience of learning to date in a new city at a time in which most humans have lost the art of connection and honesty, authenticity, and integrity have become concepts only read about in books (okay okay, an hyperbole perhaps but if you’ve dated as adult, you know).
If I tried, I couldn’t even remember the number of times I questioned who I was as a woman — was I worth it? Did I look okay? Would my lack of history with or interest in sports and breweries count me out? Would my curious interests and love for growth make me too much? This list could go on (and one day, I will write about this too — dating as a highly sensitive person is an entirely different ballgame).
However, when you begin to walk the path of becoming your own best friend, questions like the aforementioned begin to get answered with far better responses than not.
“Yes, you are worth it.”
“Yes, you look great.”
“No, it doesn’t matter if you don’t like sports or breweries.”
“Absolutely not, your love of curious things and interest in growth will be super exciting for the right person for you.”
Ultimately, my ventures into dating culminated last winter when I met a wonderful human who, in this space, I have enjoyed the better part of the last nine months getting to know.
This journey of learning to date and then finally getting to know someone in such a way has seen me learn that good, healthy relationships simply take time, patience, and continued trust in oneself. Despite how rare these qualities seem to be amongst the modern landscape of convenience and speed, they are absolutely essential to cultivate if we are ever to truly connect and get to know another human (the first of which, surprise, surprise, is ourselves).
As one door closes…
When I moved into this apartment, I had just moved to a new city — a city which never exactly called my heart, but which held doors I could open quite easily, and so, as I have done many times before, I went forth and opened them.
The thing with doors, however, is that even if you come across some which seem effortless to walk through, you never quite know what lies beyond.
Just over a year later, I am continuing to discover what is yet to come, and as I close the door on this one short chapter, I can’t help but notice that the doors which eventually become so easy to open are often proceeded by a space which allows them to appear — a space which, if we are in the right one, will ask nothing more and nothing less than our total transformation.
AUTHOR’S NOTE#100daysofwriting | This essay is the sixth in a series of 100 I am challenging myself to write before the end of the year 2022. As of today, 106 days remain. Will the essays be perfect? No. Will they be done? Yes. As a life-long recovering perfectionist who loves to write but fears subpar work, to write with such frequency and disregard for most standards except the one that asks, is it published? will be an adventure, to say the least.
Topics, I’m sure, will span the breadth of seriousness to silliness, will cover the grounds of spirituality to observations I may make in a nail salon, but truthfully, there are no promises in such a challenge, except to say that yes — they will be done.
You can keep up with my writing challenge by following me on Medium, or subscribing to my email list.