This isn’t what I wanted.
I don’t mean that in a boo-hoo-poor-Miranda kind of way, it’s really more just a matter of fact.
This isn’t what I wanted.
When I was dreaming and wondering and planning what my life would be like, this was not it.
I never imagined I would move to the Midwest (of all places). Not for one second did it occur to me to look into jobs at the company I will now be working for. I didn’t hope to one day be 23 years old, in an apartment, alone, where I know few people and am far, far away from my family: my home.
This is not what I wanted.
If things had gone according to my plan, I would still be in Charleston, engaged to the man I loved and surrounded by my close friends and family.
To me career was never a priority – my mission stood outside my work and I was fine with that. Moving for a job never crossed my mind.
But doors that I had started to walk through were painfully shut on me, and doors I had never seen before sprang open abruptly. I didn’t feel that I chose this new path, rather that I was being chosen for it. I could walk through the door or not, but it had been opened for me. Why? Couldn’t tell you. I hope for my good, and also for a greater good – a higher purpose. But right now as far as I know, I could be as “woefully wrong as Humphrey Belcher, who decided the time was ripe for a cheese cauldron.” -A.P.W.B.D.
I have decided to accept, tentatively and somewhat reluctantly, that maybe, maybe my plan wasn’t the best one (maybe).
Maybe there is a bigger, better plan that will successfully lead me to the peace and joy I have been aching for.
Maybe something about moving, about living here (of all places), about making the new friends I will meet and developing my writing skills, maybe all this is necessary for my growth, my peace, my happiness. Perhaps this is an essential part of my journey that will make me more myself and help me to become the person I want to be.
Possibly the things I do here and the relationships I form will turn out to be of the utmost importance.
The reality is that I don’t know. What I do know is that I left behind my friends and family, my job, my home to come here.
Not because I am sure it’s the right thing, but because I am trusting.
We don’t know everything and if we think we do we’re just kidding ourselves. We’re not in control of the all doors that open and close in our lives, sometimes we just have to step through one that is open and see what happens – always hoping for the best, always trusting.
To me the worst thing we can do is to hang on stubbornly to what we want and knock on a closed door insistently, shouting for someone to come and open it.
Life is too precious to waste on what we think is best, what we hoped for, what we wanted. I don’t mean that in cynical or Debbie downer kind of way, I just mean that sometimes we need to choke down our piece of humble pie and realize that we don’t always know what we really want; we don’t always know what is best for us.
A door was closed on me that I desperately wanted to sprint through, but as much uncertainty and pain and fear that I feel – I am walking through the door that was opened and trusting that it will be for the best.
As I sit here in my (mostly empty) and very quiet apartment, waiting for my friend to drop off a sleeping bag (my mattress is arriving Wednesday), I have decided to trust, to make the best of this and to let go of what I thought I wanted.
Because maybe, just maybe, there are things at work here bigger and better than I could have dreamed up myself.
So if you’re in a place of uncertainty, unknowing, disappointment…you are not alone. New beginnings aren’t always the Hollywood moments we want them to be. Often there is a hard fall before the recovery. And often the recovery is long and slow. So hang in there, keep hoping and, most importantly, keep trusting.
This isn’t it.