I’ll be honest: Although our move to Oregon has been good in many ways, it hasn’t been all roses and unicorns. Not for me. Changing cities. Moving. Starting a new job. Buying a house. Any one of those things on its own is a big, stressful change. Doing them all at the same time? Overwhelming. The “WTF was I thinking?!” kind of overwhelming.
I have felt defeated, insecure, and uncertain. I have very little connection or sense of belonging. Most of the time, I walk around feeling unsettled and like the stranger in a strange land that I am. Worse, Ursula (the mean girl voice in my head) has been talking a judgy blue streak for weeks, berating me with perfection-based shoulds. Ursula’s intentions are honorable. She is just trying to help me cope by distracting me from the unpleasant feelings.
Add to all that, the baggage that often comes with the month of July. It is a month chock full of “anniversaries,” including my ex-husband’s birthday, the month we got engaged, and the month our divorce was final.
Oh, and it’s my birthday month, too. If there’s one thing I have always loved, it’s my birthday. (I am such a Leo that way.) But this birthday is different. This year I turn 50. In and of itself, not a big deal. It’s just a number. Hell, I sweated and dreaded turning 35 more than I am about turning 50. Still, it feels like a turning point with more change and more letting go.
I know it will all be for the better … eventually. I can’t hold onto old beliefs, the picture in my head of how I think things should be, or the person (physically, psychologically, or emotionally) I was 10 years ago or even 10 months ago.
I remember a quote from an episode of RobCast that really hit home for me:
“All change—even good change—is loss and that loss needs to be grieved.”
And as a wise woman recently told me: “Roses and unicorns. Yep. Right after you let yourself grieve.”
With that, I am going to indulge in a ritual to let the old stuff go, probably involving fire. I love fire; it is simultaneously cleansing and comforting. And then, bring on the roses and unicorns!
[P.S. If you google “roses and unicorns,” you get a frightening number of results.]