Let's get it together, one stop at a time.
Yesterday was All Souls Day and the Day of the Dead. It was the day after the 19th anniversary of the death of a woman who would’ve been my mother-in-law had she survived until May 2015. And it was my 34th birthday.
I have now started my 35th year of existence as Stephanie, an extroverted female who needs time alone after a long day at work. A black girl who grew up “talking white.” Someone who has lived in the ghetto and in the boonies who thinks she’s now too good to take a Greyhound bus. A Francophile in every way imaginable. I like French wine and cheese. My wedding had a French theme, and then I went to Quebec on my honeymoon. I pronounce that place “keh-beck.” An aspiring writer who barely writes. Someone hiding behind lots of extra weight and a little normalcy, hoping no one will try to tug at her mask.
I could not help feeling disappointed. I had a long list of things that were supposed to be done by now. I don’t have children, or a house or a published novel. I do have a therapist that I pay to listen to me lament my lack of progress on the list, so at least I’m at a place in my life where I can afford to navel-gaze.
So what will this year bring? How will this year be any different than the decades (crap, I’m old enough to refer to parts of my life as decades) I spent going to my 8-5, hardly trying to stand out because my minimal effort was good enough? Well, I don’t know if it will be. But I know I can’t keep living a quadruple life because the truth is I’m not very happy in any of them. Work Stephanie is smart but procrastinates and takes office drama personally. Church Stephanie wishes her place of worship were more active in the community instead of so insular and self-congratulatory. Family Stephanie lives hundreds of miles away from her relatives and feels left out. And Relationship Stephanie still has a hard time with patience and believing that she is worthy of love.
I will try to #WorkOutEveryDay. That sounds unrealistic, but I think I can do something, whether it be a mid-day walk or dancing at a wedding or a 20-minute DVD every single day. I have to. I feel sick and tired and actually feel less alive than I did a few years ago.
I will write at least 3 times a week. My incarcerated brother and I had an idea years ago to write a book about how our lives turned out, and I’ve done a terrible job of following through.
I will be more open with the world and more honest with myself. I value honesty above all else and it’s high time I start acting like it.
I’m going to stop counting the days, and start making the days count.
Follow me on Twitter (@stopsigngirl) for more info about my journey