Tags
asking for help, autumn, autumn transformation, change, change in plans, crash course, daring bravely, do battle, emotional education, excuses, fear of change, Halloween, impulsiveness, need for stability, overthinking, owning your emotions, rationalizing, shield, stability, weapons
Then suddenly, the air was turning steely cold, the leaves were turning all shades of yellow and copper, while the souls were turning melancholy and longing.
In the moment, we humans have the tendency of fooling ourselves into believing that change is something reserved for others. On account of our biological need for stability (and it’s a stringent one, no doubt), we come to think it impossible for the good to ever change into bad, or for the bad to turn into good.
As it turns out, a recent study found very little correlation between the personality traits of the same people at ages 18 and 68. So, to quote the cliché, change is one of the few constants of everyone’s lives.
Almost a year ago to the T, I moved into my own place. This had been after more than a decade of sharing an apartment with both boys and girls, and after seeing and experiencing the good, the bad, the awkward, the heartwarming, the ugly, even the icky. It had been grand, it had been a huge part of my growing up from an awkward and introverted teen into an only slightly awkward and forcibly less introverted young adult. But change was something I could no longer avoid, no matter how gut wrenching it was to think about and enact.
So after a Halloween party which ran until later than advisable, involved too many glasses of wine, excessive dancing and some unnecessarily wasted time giggling at Youtube videos on the sidewalk, I decided the best time to make the big move was that very weekend. That next morning, I hauled myself out of bed, downed an ibuprofen along with two cups of coffee, all while my mother was doing her best not to press me to talk (let me tell you, being hungover in front of your mom is a special kind of torture in and of itself). Once I’d sufficiently regained my human form and was able to properly articulate to my dad that he shouldn’t touch any of the bags containing fragile objects (he protested, evidemment), the real fun began. By 11 PM that evening, though, I had somehow managed to carry all my stuff to my apartment and also store (almost) everything safely away in cupboards, dressers and drawers – one of my brand new plates sadly fell victim to my lingering hungover and state of exhaustion.
While the timing was quite unfortunate, it was a now or never type of situation. The initial plans had looked quite different and then turned to dust, which is why I had been devising excuses for myself, finding reasons to delay taking this step. I was afraid of the massive change that was staring me in the face because I had not even imagined it would turn into such a beast, nor that I would be facing it on my own. I had no sword to do battle with, only a stupid, rusty shield. So I made due, in my usual awkward fashion.
One of the hardest things to learn how to do – which my generation is taking a crash course on with no user manuals available, no guidance in most cases and much later in life than expected – is owning your emotions and feelings. I could have come up with innumerable reasons for which I should wait a bit more to move out on my own, I could have rationalised the hell out of a decision I was making out of pure fear – fear of change. It was my strange nature that got me out of the tar I was stuck in – overthinking lasts only so long in my case, after which a moment of impulsiveness will force a decision, one way or another. Thank All Hallows’ Eve for that!
When it comes to ownership of these complications called emotions, that is still being worked on, so please bear with us.