Sans this past weekend, I’ve been holding down the fort in DC while Hubs started his new job up in Stamford.
This being apart thing and living on my own? I admire Military wives and widows because I have no idea how they do it.
This of course has left me with the sole responsibility of packing up our apartment before this weekend when we move for reals. I never minded packing, of course packing in college when I’d move across the quad was much easier than packing up an entire apartment filled with 26 years of belongings from both of us. Twice as much to throw away, twice as much to sort through and twice as much to pack. Without the help of a bin that I can just throw stuff in and haul across the quad.
Even when I moved here, a moment I’ll remember for a long time, I had 3 oversized suitcases, and two carry on pieces. Filled with clothes, pictures, books I couldn’t live without and shoes that I “needed.” I’m a hoarder what can I say. A few weeks later my father would drive down to DC and bring me the rest of my belongings. They all fit in the family mini-van – that’s how you live in college and fresh off the graduation boat, things weren’t much different for me. The school furnished much of our apartment’s furniture so I had no oversized pieces and when you move eight times in five years, you learn to condense your life. Keeping the small things and getting rid of the oversized baggage that you don’t need.
I condensed my life when I moved to Washington. I was running away from a relationship that was intense, unhealthy and yet all-encompassing so much that we would have traveled around the world to make it work. I was running away from a family that I didn’t believe believed in me at times. I was running away from my past that I didn’t have the balls to say no to. I packed up my life in three days and hopped on a plane and said “sayonara” to the old and welcomed the new with Red Headed Slut shots with the boys who took me under their wings and helped me move on from everything I was running from. I didn’t want to be the awkward girl anymore. I wanted passion, ambition and success and came to DC naive enough to think I could achieve all of it without succumbing to the brown-nosing, name-dropping, ass-kissing nature of the game. I’m not any of those things, I don’t think I ever was, though that could be debatable.
At one point in life, we’re all self-important. I was in college and let me tell you, I had a lot of fun feeling on top of the world in a school of 15,000. I wasn’t really, but it was a welcomed change from being at the bottom of the totem pole in high school. I wasn’t self-important enough, however, to be as successful as some of my counterparts here in DC.
I fell into my quarter-life crisis holding the hand of a man that I’d never let go of. Everything I thought I wanted – success, passion and ambition seemed to be squandered with failed jobs, leaving me feeling like the biggest failure. I had always gotten what I wanted and I didn’t know how anymore. I was broken. He held me up, supported me and told me, repeatedly, that I am not a failure.
Thankfully, when you’re broken you can be fixed. With the help of supportive friends, and a now husband who adores me, and is often too good to me, I figured myself out. I thought back to what I wanted initially. I re-discovered ambitions I thought were lost and remembered what it was all about to begin with – inspiration. I wanted to inspire the way I had been. Professors and teachers that left such a profound impact on me and my values and ideals that I couldn’t thank them enough for the ways they shaped who I am today – the only way to thank them? To go into the line and do unto others as others have done unto me.
Thankfully, my longing to teach doesn’t need to be in a city that I have come to loathe. I thought my future was here. I came here to be successful and maybe, I just didn’t work hard enough for it; maybe I didn’t want it bad enough, but maybe, on top of that all, it wasn’t for me.
We’re starting a new. One month into married life, Hubs got the job offer he wanted and we’re moving on – closer to families and friends. It was pretty perfect as far as timing went – by the time we hit the two month mark we’ll be settling into a new routine in a new home.
But I can’t help but feeling like I failed, multiple failed jobs, and a chunk of credit card debt I didn’t have when I got here. I made amazing friends who have made the past three years such a learning experience – a fun one at that. I found a passion in blogging and have met the most amazing people because of it – here in DC and elsewhere – Boston, Chicago and soon to be New York/Fairfield County. You can’t ask for a better “hobby” than this. One that introduces you to people you’d never meet, takes you across the country, and opens your eyes to new opportunities and lifestyles. I didn’t fail, I just changed courses. Sometimes, I just need to remind myself of that.
I did succeed in a few things though – that husband that I met by chance? He’s pretty amazing, and I’m beyond lucky to have him. That ex? I got over him. The friends? I found some amazing ones to add alongside the old, fabulous ones. And I’ve found a passion for writing, running, and life. I know where I’m going, I’m up for the challenge of getting there and I have a pretty awesome army to keep me in line when I feel like running away again.
Blogging is going to sparse around here for the next few days – I will have some best of DC posts with some picture of the past three years, reliving memories just so I don’t forget them. Packing is taking over my life as well as some sad goodbyes in the next few days. We leave saturday morning, so in the next week…I’ll be coming at you all from Stamford, CT.
“Every new beginning comes from some other beginnings end…” – Semisonic “Closing Time”