the zone.

I've mentioned my comfort zone, bubble, nest, lair, etc. a lot. I get trapped in it often. I've gotten out of it a lot more recently, you probably know the story by now. 

But, what you may not know, is that a friend told me I am "the comfort zone" for dudes, too. When she said it, I did what most people do when you're told a truth about yourself you didn't realize- try to deny it, but it lasted about 5 seconds as I could not find a single reason it wasn't true. 

I'm the girl that's there in-between girls. It's happened so many times the last few years it's uncomfortable. I'm the one they text message about anything and everything. I'm down to hang out. I'll go to lunch, happy hour, late night and an assortment of events. We'll have a really good time and it'll be so easy. We're just friends. I'm a "cool" girl. It's comfortable. 

I'll wonder if it means something more even when I know it's not. I'll spiral. He'll let me. I answer. I show up. 

And, then the new girl shows up. And I slow fade into nothingness. And I'll have all the answers. 

Except this one: Why?

Why do you want me around when no one else is, but as soon as she shows up- no more? I have plenty of guy friends. Lots of them. I'm still the cool girl to them, only I can be the cool girl around their girlfriends, too. I know boundaries. Respect relationships. I understand scales tip and space is needed. I'll be friends with her- especially if she's cool. 

But, when I go from being "the comfort zone" to "no zone" I feel like you're telling me I wasn't crazy for those questions and that spiral. 

This is not a rant. I'm not mad about it. I built the comfort zones, both of them, this one I had a little bit of help with. For me, it comes from a genuine desire to reconnect or just connect in genral and I feel that's true on the other side, too. It's just the fact that our story begins with an ending for them and ends with a beginning for them. And, it's a series. 

I like that I'm someone people feel like "home" around. A safe place. Or whatever it is that draws them here. I think that quality will be something that a really great relationship builds from. I don't need over-the-top. It freaks me out. You don't have to wine and dine me. Though I like to do both. I like being the first and last person you talk to. I like just hanging out. I like adventurous nights out. I love cozy nights in. I like being available. Because I often feel unavailable due to an irregular work schedule. I won't act like I need you, but I want to need you. I like to be comfortable, too. 

The thing is, I'm not comfortable with the "comfort zone" anymore. (Either one, really.) I find myself holding back and feeling kind of trapped. I don't ask questions I want to know the answers to. I get them eventually, usually non-verbally (sometimes literally that way), but why do I sit and wait and allow for that shot to be called? I wonder what this or that means because typically those things mean more, but we allow them not to. I allow them not to. 

Is it because I'm too comfortable? Because I don't ask for the things I want or need? I'm fiercely loyal. I'm there when I need to be and want to be. I'm passionate about the the things I care about and that includes people. 

History does repeat itself. I hate when a really good book is over and hope that there's more to the story to come. I guess I just need to work more on making sure we're on the same page and if we're not- it's time to do some editing. 

We're about to get really uncomfortable, y'all. 

it's time.

I'm 29.

That number feels like so many things. At first, old. Not like it's all downhill from here old. Just like...damn, I've got a solid chunk of life behind me old. The milestones that are so easily measurable are mostly behind me. There is a ticking that I start to hear when I think of the few benchmarks left on the path and an anxiousness that does often wash over me as I wonder when I'll pass them, too. Those aren't as easy to measure. There isn't a specific age a person gets married or has children or reaches the top of their career (even though it kind of feels like it sometimes). 

Those same things also make me feel young. There's so much life left to live. So many more things to see and do and be. I feel a sense of urgency from this. Not necessarily that time is running out, but that I've got to get out and see and do and become. 

That's kind of the scary part of late 20s-early 30s. We just finished all of these things that we were supposed to do and we often finished them on the timeline we were supposed to and then what? The guide rails come off. The knot comes loose. You just find your way? By yourself? Ok. 

I've been living my life a little differently recently. Opening myself up to new people and things and thoughts and influences. I'm learning a lot. It's good. Great really. Scary sometimes. Uncomfortable often. 

Recently when I've started feeling that anxiousness from the ticking and my restless leg gets going, I've felt a different space of time closing. The window could be closing on the time that I have when I can really make decisions for myself with little to no impact on others. I can go and do and be whoever and whatever I want without turning someone else upside down with my movements and decisions. I don't know for sure, but it could be.  

I've been watching Anthony Bourdain travel the world the last few days. He beautifully and honestly (sometimes heartbreakingly) captures every place he visits through the people the place and, of course, the food. It's left me hungry. For the world. For these experiences. For a bigger life. There's so much left to see. Why am I not trying to see it? When will I stop living vicariously through others from the comfort of my own little nest? When do the excuses run out? This, too, makes me feel old and young at the same time. So much life left to live and yet I'm choosing to not live it? 

There's real people influencing this, too. First, my one-year-old nephew. He's got half a heart, but he doesn't know that. He lives joyously. It kind of scares me. He's experiences bigger challenges and more pain than I ever have and is the wiser of us both. Even though he can't communicate like I'm able to, he seems to have figured out that the worst is mostly behind him and he's going to live for today. And happily. We were told before we even met him that his timeline is uncertain. It feels like a curse, but maybe in many ways it's more of a blessing. No one is promised a certain amount of time, but it's how we live in the time we do have, which is now, that is the most important. 

Another is a customer who comes in my store weekly. She comes in with a beaming smile and a laugh that makes my day. She's bound by a wheelchair and muscles that just don't seem to let her live freely and yet she does. She makes jokes and we pick out her favorites for herself and gifts for other people. We make sure not to choose fragrances that are too similar for her father and her boyfriend because that's weird. We have fun. The first time this happened, I wasn't feeling so good about the life I was leading. I was constantly counting the things that my life was missing and feeling kind of hopeless about it all. I was just doing my job that day. After she left, I had to choke back tears. Not because I felt sorry for her, but for myself. And, I was angry. Here she was full of life and she's been given a fraction of the ability to live it that I have. Shame on me. 

The other one is someone who is challenging me intellectually and often emotionally and has kind of woken me up to how asleep I've been. I haven't been paying attention to things that matter . I haven't been learning new things outside of myself. We have a lot of the same interests and thoughts about many things. It just feels like I put a check next to them and moved on and he's continued digging deep and finding new levels of understanding. His check marks are made of pencil. I listen to him talk about things with genuine interest as sparks start to go off in my brain. It's like seeing the sunlight through your eyelids in the morning. I want to care about bigger things. And learn new things. Change my mind and open it up, too. Why did I stop? I used to be a seeker of knowledge, of new truths, beliefs and ideas. I don't know what it all means. I don't know if I ever will. But, I could try a little harder to figure it out. 

I've got time. I don't know how much. I've been given 29 years. Approximately 11,000 days, yall. I've wasted a good many of them. I had time yesterday and I've got it today. So, while I may not be getting any younger, I'm still young in so many other ways. And, you know, it's time that I become many things, but let's just start with growing a little older and start doing some real shit. 

I'm 29, after all. 

don't worry.

"There's blood in my mouth 'cause I've been biting my tongue all week."

There was a period of time when I felt I was entitled to share my thoughts and opinions on everyone and everything. It wasn't always nice. It was always coming from a good place. It could've been executed a little bit better. 

It was so easy for me to just say it because it couldn't really hurt me. I realized after I put it out there, it may have stung a little (or a lot). The truth doesn't always have to hurt, but it doesn't make it easier to hear it or ask for it for that matter. Asking for it? That can be scary. 

I've shut up since then. 

So, yeah, I've been opening up. Working on that vulnerability. Navigating some uncharted waters. Got a little bit of a blind fold thing going on. I'm getting a little scared, y'all. 

There are questions and thoughts churning in my brain that I both want and don't want to know the answers to. I can turn it off, be in the moment, live a little. But, when the silence comes, they come back. 

I guess I'm not as open or vulnerable as I thought I was. I've gotten a little too good at the "oh, it's cool" vibe even when maybe it's really not. Maybe I'm freaking out a little? It is cool, but it would be a lot cooler if it was a little clearer. I'm realizing that can make it complicated for anyone who may want to help out with the navigation process. 

We should be careful for what we ask for, but maybe we should ask for it anyway?

Maybe I want to split myself wide open and let it all pour out. There's so many things I want to say and feel and experience and live. So many. Maybe I just need someone to start the incision just a little? There may be a little scar tissue I need help getting through, but I promise I'll do the rest. I want to. 

That spot where that faded scar came from was a powerful time. Is there anything scarier or crazier or more exhilarating than falling in love for the first time? I think it's the moment we really start living. We experience all of these magical things everyone talks, writes, sings so much about, but you're let in on the secret that it really is indescribable. You don't know how you lived without it. You never want to live without it again. There's a reason we never forget it, but what I'm wondering is, do we ever allow ourselves to fall that hard again? Why when that rush starts to creep in, do we immediately look down when we didnt before? "This is going to hurt" we tell ourselves. We strategize before we even start slipping on what we can do to break the fall, land softer. We already know it's going to hurt so maybe we can make it hurt less. Or maybe even we just stop ourselves entirely and cling to that cliff, pull ourselves out of it, shake it off, and run. That's the truth. And, that kind of hurts. 

Right now, I've got this blind fold on. It's loose. I'll take it off. Easily. I can feel the edge. It's not as scary as it used to be. It's going to hurt, but I'll worry about that later. I don't want to look down yet. You don't have to push me or catch me, but it'd be a whole lot cooler if you did.

living well.

There are moments that stop you and you are flooded with an instant replay of what has happened that lead you to right where you are right now. 

I'm a very nostalgic person in general. I like listening to music that takes me back to a very specific moment or time and reliving it. I love laughing until it hurts as stories are retold. But, those moments that you slam into- those are the best. 

I've had a few of them lately. 

I just got back from a trip for work where they honor the top performers in my company. It's pretty amazing that I've been invited on that trip two years in a row. There's a ceremony where you get up in front of everyone and they announce why you're awesome. I don't know what reasons they justified for my presence there. All I know is my heart stopped when I heard the loudest cheer when my name was called and then everything stopped as the movie of the last year of my life played. And, I smiled as time came back to the present.

Last year, I was shy and overwhelmed to be surrounded by all of these people who have inspired me and I felt humbled. Too humbled. Like I didn't belong. This year, they knew me in a genuine way and I was part of the fold. 

It was a tough year. That's no secret. I've struggled in ways I hadn't in a long time. My confidence was shaken. I lost my way as I pushed myself forward on a really uncertain path. 

I've met a lot of people on the way to today, but there was only one who stayed constantly behind me as she nudged me forward and occasionally guided me when I couldn't see anything in front of me. 

I gave her a hug and thanked her for the last year. For her push and support. She apparently watched the same movie I did as I walked across that stage and a tear started to form in her eye as she expressed pride in my transformation. "And, by the way," she said. "You look amazing. You look better than I've ever seen you. More confident. Happy." 

And, she's right. It's amazing what happiness can do. No diet or skincare regimen can do what happiness can do for a person. It brings lightness and glowing light. The calm spot inside of a storm that's still brewing. 

I don't exactly welcome depression or struggle, but I've had enough bouts with it to know it is kind of necessary. A sign that something's just not right and it's time to figure it out. There's always time to wallow in it, but at some point you've got to come out from your hiding spot and fight your way to home base. There's that vulnerability again as you're totally exposed. You have to spend some time in the dark to truly be able to see the light. 

By no means is everything in my life exactly how I want it to be. I don't know that I ever want that for myself. I want to constantly evolve. I want to always want better. That was the promise I made to myself this year. That I was just going to focus on being better. Every day. In whatever way I could. Some days have been better than others, but they've all gotten me here. 

That same night I was asked what I thought got me there and I just said without pause "I never gave up." I think she was looking for a more tactical response, but that's the right answer. 

In my college bedroom, I had a song lyric written on my window: 

"Despair could ravage you if you turn your head around 

to look down the path that's lead you here, cause what can you change?

You're a vessel now floating down the waterways.

You can take your rudder and aim your ship,

just don't bother with the things left in your wake.

And you walk across the stage, take a bow, hear the applause,

and as the curtain falls, just know you did it all

the best that you knew how and you can hear them cheering now.

So let a smile out and show your teeth cause you know you lived it well."

That. That was 10 years ago. And, it's today. I'm doing it the best that I know how. I'm doing better. I'm doing well. 

finding my way back.

Last month I kind of ran away for a minute. I'd been in Houston for the longest stretch of time since I moved here and needed to catch my breath. I was tired of being "new." Of having to introduce myself on an almost daily basis. Of no one really knowing me. So I fled to New Orleans to surround myself with my oldest friends in an old city.
I had just started the process of being open I was telling you about. I had just gotten burned. I was internally fighting the shut down. Literal burn out. Time out.
As my plane took off from Houston, I took advantage of my window seat and my breath was kind of taken away as I looked down on this huge city I now call home. It's mine. I live here. As it got smaller and I got closer to the stars, I felt bigger. I felt better.
I arrived in the early hours of the morning and was greeted by one of those friends. One that had at one point gotten closer to me than almost anyone. None of it was physical, but I do believe that anywhere it went, it's always been with me. And, it felt like home, too.
So, I was reminded of who I am to people who matter most, when I needed it most. But, I was also able to see who I am now.
So, I came back ready. Ready to be home. Ready to live here.
That night I went to see Father John Misty alone. I like doing that now. I just let go. It was like church. The air conditioner was out and every one was pouring sweat as we sang and had our moment. As I walked down the creaky stairs and got my first hit of fresh air, a smile stretched across my face as I applauded myself for this life I'm finally building.
Since then, I can't even begin to retell all of the amazing things that have begun showing up in my life. How much I've laughed or smiled or gotten weak in the knees or felt or hoped or lived. Those are the things that happen in a moment. Those things are comfort. They're home. A string of affirmations. Subtle taps on the shoulder to say, "There you go, you're doing just fine, sister" as I shove myself out into my life.
When you ask for things, it's amazing when they start to show up. You just have to lift your head up and live to see them as they approach. Sometimes you have to get up in the clouds to see just how big your life is. I'll bet you find it in the last place you look.

oh, she's open.

Vulnerability has been something I've been trying to figure out for a long time now. I've been told I'm too independent as if it's a bad thing (it's not). I did shut myself down though, for a while, which wasn't always a good thing. I'd start to open up a little and, most of the time, get a little burned. Back to lock down I'd go. 

But, here's the thing, that burn I was so damn scared of, has this ability to start a fire and it can ignite so many bigger things. 

I've taken some risks this year in pretty much every aspect of my life and, the best part is, it hasn't been scary. There have been burns and scrapes and bruises (there's always bruises), but they go away and I'm still here and always better for them even the ones that have left scars. Lessons learned and I keep the fire burning and move on. 

The thing is, when you're open, you're living. Letting all the good, the bad and the ugly in. But, the powerful part that I wasn't grasping is that I get to choose what stays and what goes. I choose to let all of it make me better. 

I want all of the things. I want a full life. I want to light fires. But the thing about fires is that it has to have air to breathe. It's a living thing. And it has to be done out in the open. 

I'm finding that the safest place to be is the one where you just put it all out there. Throw it all in and just let it happen. It takes courage and fearlessness and humbleness and the the first step to all of those things is, wait for it, vulnerability. 

My boss has been telling me for the last year if you're not uncomfortable something is wrong. The last time I saw her, I told her I've been very uncomfortable and she gave me a hug and told me how proud she was. That's just it. They don't call it growing pains for no reason. 

So, I'll stay out here. I'll keep opening windows and leave the door unlocked. Rubbing sticks together to keep the fire going. After all, when there's nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire, right?

better.

On Christmas, my sister asked me when I was going to start writing again. I mean, at some point? I have been, haven't I? It's been like a year she said. Since Wiley died she said. Damn I thought.
The next day, I was getting my big ass super strong coffee that I can't seem to make it successfully through the day without and I looked over and saw a sticker that just said "WILEY" real big and bold and I thought to myself, OK, I get it!
So here I am. Hi.
I started be reading some of my last posts. It was refreshing to revisit and see where I was a year ago. I'm not there anymore. In so many ways. But, to stumble upon a time capsule of a really positive, powerful moment when I've been feeling really negative and powerless was a reminder that it's in me and I can get it back.
2014, you've been a rough one.
Every aspect of my life got turned upside down and I just had to power through it and think about it later. I guess later is here and now.
I packed up all my things and sold my little nest and moved down to Houston with hopes of a fresh start personally and spring board professionally. I do think it can still be both of those things, but it's absolutely been neither so far. It's been a challenge to say the least. I'm not scared of those, but I can't say I was totally ready. I just took a leap. Sometimes I think running was involved though I'm not sure from what. I got a birthday card from my Aunt and she said what I did was so brave and courageous and that I've done it with such grace. I never thought about my move or myself as any of those things while it was happening and I began to cry because maybe it kind of was.
I'm not going to recap 2014 month-by-month. A LOT happened. Know that. Some of the biggest events of my life have happened. What I will tell you is that I totally lost myself. Again.
I built another big, huge comfort bubble and I was so cozy in it. But, then it popped and not like a big pop more like a slow leak and I still haven't figured out if I did it or someone else just stuck a little pin in it and walked away casually. My family got turned  upside down. My work life got turned upside down. My house was my last little bit of sanctuary until a "for sale" sign got shoved in the grass and I began sorting and packing my things. I was upside down.
The family stuff is right side up again although there may continue to be a little lean. But, for me, I honestly couldn't tell you, at times it's totally just felt like a spin.
I don't know where this chapter will take me. I do know that amazing things come out of discomfort. I was too comfortable. I want more for myself, but I wasn't going to get it in that bubble. I know I made the right decision and I've had lots of signs that confirm it. I'm always searching for the what does it all means and am hopeful for what life could be when I have time to make it so. I'm making plans for myself and I'm going to do my best to stick to them.
So, on this, the last day of 2014 which will forever go down as THE year, what I'm saying is, I've been struggling, challenged, uncomfortable and maybe even hiding, but I'm also fighting and maybe on my better days I'm a little courageous and muster up a bit of grace. 2015 is going to be all about "better." It's allllll gonna get better, y'all.