DO-ing isn’t always easy…

Staying true to self discovery and what’s good for you gets tiring. The journey can be lonely and uncertain. Sometimes you question all of the change you’ve created and long for the comfort and sense of normalcy your old life provided. For the past 72 hours I’ve indulged in that emotion, looking for temporary solace from the past. Both surprisingly and not surprisingly, what I’ve learned has put me right back on my lonely road to self actualization:)

It all started on Thurs night when I ran into my ex boyfriend at our mutual friend’s party. I knew he’d been invited but wasn’t sure if he’d show. Part of me welcomed the drama of seeing him for the first time since the break-up. The other part knew it was dangerously early in our post-couple history for a nonchalant run-in. I shrugged my shoulders and told myself, “eeeh, what happens happens, no big deal, you’ll deal with it when it comes.” A very noble attempt for a girl who plots out a million ways she can respond to any given situation, with diagrams and all:) When I arrived I ordered a drink for the nerves and covertly swept the room over the rim of my glass for any signs of him. It took about an hour of sipping (too much sipping) before I located him. There he was, looking tan in a white shirt with freshly groomed everything. He’d clearly known he’d see me and had made an effort to look good. He did, and I said “dammit” and “yum” in the same breath. He approached me, gave me a hug (smelled so good) and we spoke for a bit. We split up and worked the room separately, but would find each other from time to time. Then we started the crazy “I’m leaving, good to see you” game in which one would approach the other, claim to leave and then just stand there:) This went on until we were the last people at the party. Long story short, we ended up back at my place. The comfort I felt in his arms was intoxicating, strong enough to temporarily mask the defects and make us feel so right. And, I won’t lie, it was wonderful. I marinated in his love and affection, sooo freakin’ happy to give in for a second and just enjoy him like I used to. He loitered the next morning, telling me he didn’t want to leave. I slipped and told him I didn’t want him to leave either. It took him an hour just to put his shirt on, but eventually we both had to start our days. He walked down the front steps of my brownstone, turning back and waving 3 or 4 times before he walked down the block. I could see how much he missed me and still loved me. But I also knew we separated for a reason. I turned and climbed up the stairs to my apartment, surprisingly optimistic. Not so much out of excitement for him and the night we shared, but out of excitement to move on and DO something positive with my day.

I’ve realized that slips-ups are to be expected, they’re quite human. And, though it might sound unhealthy, I think this slip-up gave me just the right amount of comfort I needed to keep moving forward. It may have been a mistake, seemingly surmountable in this moment yet crippling in the future, but I’ve embraced it as part of the process. As what I needed in that moment to continue to DO and be true to that spirit inside that has big plans for me.

I have 2 other stories but I’ve got to eat something, I’m famished! I’ll be sure to divulge in the next round…