I've really been reconnecting with a lot of my close friends as of late. It's been intense hearing about those who are now engaged, those of whom are purchasing their first homes together, those who are moving in with their partners for the first time, etc. It's made me reflect a great deal on this concept of progress.
What are the markers we use too chart or quantify our own progress – maturing into healthy, well adjusted, productive members of society? How do we know when we've 'arrived?' And how do we know when we are still bullshitting ourselves with smoke and mirrors?
It could be really easy to beat myself up, comparing myself to the countless friends that are hitched, co-habitating, have the perfect job, the gorgeous house they now own, and so on... But the reality is – I don't need to compare myself to anyone else anymore. I don't need to launch my own pity party because I am single again, or because I rent instead of own, or because I'm not on some fast track corporate escalator bringing me straight to the top.
The truth is, I've been that person who feels so insecure about my own place in the world, that I begin to judge everyone else. It felt like shit, only solidifying how inferior I felt. I wondered why they got the job in film that I wanted, or how they landed the hott girl I found intriguing... It never ended. And then something changed: I fell in love, moved in with the woman I wanted to marry, we rented a huge gorgeous house together, got a dog, worked together professionally, collaborated on art together, which was shown collectively, traveled the world side by side. I thought I had it all, but I was miserable. My heart was broken time and time again. And I realized that despite 'having it all,' I felt farther away from true contentment and happiness than when I was alone. Ironic.
There was something that was askew in the little venn diagram of my life. Until I really looked at it candidly, and courageously, my life was still going to feel like shit. Two elements in my life stood out as pretty significant problems:
1. I wasn't living genuinely. I was sure I didn't feel like a woman despite my female body, but I was terrified of immersing myself in any concrete changes that would be irreversible (gender wise) to see if anything else would feel like a better fit. At least knowing that something was wrong was easier to stomach than the potential hazards of the all too terrifying unknown. So, I spent decades in paralyzed limbo, fearing the seemingly infinite what-ifs, and hating the reality of my life – all of which meant that I had to do the work to resolve that broken sense of self, between my (female) body, and my internalized sense that I was *meant* to be masculine.
2. I was in a relationship that was toxic. I fell in love with an incredible human being who happened to be very damaged, and horrifically destructive. Instantly, all of the years I invested in trying to heal from my traumatic childhood went out the window, and suddenly, I was unwittingly committing to my own emotional unraveling. I truly loved this woman, but realized that it wasn't my job to fix her, and I wasn't doing a very good job of keeping myself safe while being with her.
Between these two paths intersecting, I lost myself completely. A wise woman once told me: "Sometimes a break down in necessary for a break through." Well, I definitely broke down, and feel so incredibly lucky to say that I did the requisite work to transform most of that pain and insight into the wisdom to transcend beyond the limits of my own capabilities and tolerances.
I had to step the fuck up to face all that scared me the most, which was no small task. And I can't help but assume that this is the informal foundation for at least 90% of things like substance abuse issues, eating disorders, sex addictions, chronic anger mis-management issues, and the whole lot of them. We simply don't want to really have to look at the elements that inflict the most debilitating, excruciating pain and confusion in our lives. So, often we just don't. We in turn find other avenues to distract us from that pain (addictions), or we find other outlets to pretend that we are healing from that one mortal wound. ("If I just get this one job, if I just find someone to date, if I could just find someone to publish my novel –– THEN my life will be okay. THEN I'll be content.")
The truth is we almost always look for outside 'fixes' for internal problems. We need the pat on the back, the partner who tells us incessantly that they love us, or that we're beautiful, our parents or bosses to tell us we're good enough. But even when we get those external gestures, they rarely get absorbed in the way we hoped they would. Even with those complements and remarks of adoration, we are often no closer to actually believing that we are worthy, or make it any easier to tell ourselves all that we wish we were hearing from those on whom we rely.
I can quantify it. I really can. I can tell you the exact day that I decided to change my life. I can tell you the moment – where I was when I knew that I couldn't keep running from the pain, and when I finally accepted that it was time to face those monsters in my closets. I stood up to my girlfriend and told her that I was no longer going to enable her abusive tactics anymore, and that if she wanted to be in my life, it would have to be from a stance of respect, and mutual dignity. And I decided that I wasn't going to keep myself frozen in limbo about my gender confusion. I granted myself permission to experiment, and push myself far beyond my comfort levels to simply see who I could become.
When I talk about my transition, I make it clear that gender was just the metaphor, and that the real change was in believing that I am worthy of this life of opportunity. Slowly, I began to awaken to the reality that I treat others better than I treat myself. And I expect others to treat themselves better than they treat me. I unconsciously sought out selfish people that could utilize my generosity, and simultaneously take me for granted. If I had a history of giving myself away, then the new history that I was creating as I went had to be about self-preservation. My 'new' life required all of my attention, and diligent focus. It wasn't about wearing a blue shirt as opposed to a pink shirt to become this new version of me. And it wasn't about applying down at the city courthouse for some random new name. Every single element of my life was torn down and rebuilt from the rubble.
It's been three years, and only now I am catching my stride, and expanding my center of focus. Some people go to grad school, while others work their way up the corporate ladder to learn what they think they need to know to have a better life, in whatever form that takes. I'm not dissing those approaches, but feel sad for those of whom I know that have spent years down those paths to find themselves no closer to happiness, contentment, or knowing what they 'should do' with their lives.
Instead of panicking because I have been managing the same small businesses for several years, I see that I have consciously chosen these options because it grants me time to write for several hours everyday, I enjoy the type of work I do, and the people with whom I work, and I am really good at small business management. I want to take myself more seriously as a writer, but this job helps me get there. I love what I do, and I love all that it allows me to do. I know that I am good at it, regardless of whether or not I have some pat on the back, or some 'Employee of the Month' plaque to hang on my wall. (as if...)
And rather than assuming that my being single means I am unlovable, I can finally rest assured that I'm the most content and at peace with myself that I've ever been in my life. All of my hard work has lead me to not only feel, but *be* more resolved, and rooted. It's been amazing.
I turn 34 next week, and I finally feel like I am worthy of all of the happiness and self-acceptance that had always escaped me. This was the life that I was meant to earn. But like all of the most valuable things in life – there were no shortcuts, or cliff notes for this invaluable experiential knowledge. I had to break down to break through. And from here, I look to my future from a seat of hope and curiosity. Even if I get kicked down again, I can trust myself to evolve, and grow into an even more resilient and able person, adding more insights and revelations to the heap.
It feels good to know in these last days of my early thirties that I am exactly where I need to be. And to feel surprisingly proud of all of my progress and accomplishments. Okay, so maybe I don't have some fancy diplomas on my wall, or 'World's Best' -whatever- trophies, but I do have my surly self-deprecating wit, and cubby full of verve that I get to rock this new party. (But a "World's Best Whatever" trophy would be kind of amazing...)
Now back to you: What if you could have the life for which you've always hoped? What hard work would you be willing to do to achieve it? What monsters in your closet would you be willing to face if it meant you could be free to find contentment?
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