All around me it seems like I’m surrounded by the sound of doors closing.
We sold the house where we spent the first seven years of our marriage together. It was difficult and stressful leaving a place that had so much history. My husband grew up in that house, so there were many more years that our seven worth of memories and baggage to leave behind. Now that it’s over and we’ve been in our new place for several months it’s so so SO nice to be in a place that’s free of the past for either one of us. We’re writing new history here and it’s good. Really, really good. So while that door closed, we opened the door at our new place and we’re making it ours like the other house never could be. When I walk in the door at this house I am home.
I’m still in the process of saying goodbye to my former self. I quite literally don’t recognize myself in the mirror from two years ago. I lost a person – an entire adult person. One hundred and twenty pounds. One hundred and twenty pounds. That’s almost half my former weight. I still have a hard time navigating this body. Buying clothes is weird and fun but frustrating because I keep shrinking out of clothes I love. (More about that later because that’s not what this post is about.) My friend keeps telling me to stop acting like I’m still fat – stand up straight and quit hiding. It’s true. Those habits are hard to break. I’m starting the process of dealing with the aftermath of this weight loss because while I’m a whole lot smaller now, liking the way I look is still pretty difficult with all the sagging and bagging going on. I am not in the least embarrassed to say that I plan to be nipped and tucked and body sculpted into something that looks a lot less deflated. I didn’t come this far to still not like what’s in the mirror. Halfway is bullshit. [name that quote]
I said goodbye to my appendix. And good riddance. Something that can go bad for no good reason whatsoever out of the clear blue sky on New Year’s freaking Day doesn’t deserve real estate in my personal landscape. Don’t let that door hit you in the buttocks [tell me you said butt-ocks ala Forrest Gump] on the way out!
And now, this week, I’m closing the door on nine years at my now former employer. In September my hours were reduced. In February I was placed on seasonal leave, which means basically you’re still on the books as an employee but we don’t have work for you right now. Last week I was officially laid off. There’s no going back now. And you know what? I’m ok with that. Don’t get me wrong, being unemployed SUCKS and I will miss the people I worked with. But I have spent a lot of years working at a job that didn’t light my creative fire. I was good at what I did, and I was paid well for doing it, but I am at heart a creative person. I had lost that over the years. The more time I spend away from linear thinking and day-to-day rote tasks the more I can feel that part of me coming back, and I’m realizing now exactly how much I missed it. Now the trick is going to be to find a way to get paid for doing things I love. I have several ideas so we will see. I’m looking forward to opening that door.
I also need to find a way to reduce the number of closable doors around me because damn. I’m about done with that for a while. Anyone got a spare doorstop?