I was talking with a friend the other day. In response to the old tried and true question: “What’s new with you?” I replied: “Nothing. Literally nothing has changed for me. I feel as if you’d asked me this question four years ago my answer would be identical. Absolutely nothing in my life has changed.”
That’s not entirely true.
In December 2016, I decided to chop off all my hair and go natural. And now I vacillate daily with an internal war of whether I hate it or I love it. Whether I feel empowered or ugly. Whether I should just give up or keep growing it out.
I’ve changed jobs. I currently make around 40% of what I did at the “height” of my career and constantly try to be content with this fact. To date, I have yet to be fine with it. I’ve gained weight and am the heaviest I’ve ever been. I’m more tired than I used to be. I injured myself last month and have been limping around the city for a month. I’m increasingly anxious and unhappy.
But, like, let’s be real: no one wants to hear that as a response to “What’s new with you?”
I stopped writing this blog because I couldn’t decide on a direction. I don’t date so it ceased to be a dating blog. And there are only so many ways I can explain why I don’t enjoy dating and why I never meet anyone. Also — eh, it’s not so fun to ruminate exhaustively about how I find dating apps annoying, exhausting, and demoralizing. I did have a lot more luck dating on the coasts but, even then, I didn’t find anything long lasting. I met most of my boyfriends in Indiana so that fact alone blows any preconceived notions about dating out of the water. Also after talking with a few single black female friends, I’m getting the sneaking suspicion that race (*insert shocked face*) plays a role in my lack of success on dating apps. Let’s be real: the blog got stale, tired, and depressing (much like it’s author) so I stopped.
After talking with my friend I was suddenly hit with a horrible thought: What if I peaked years ago? What if my best days are behind me? I had the condo. I had the super duper successful and very well paying job. I had two personal trainers and could fit into designer (bought off Gilt.com and Rulala BUT STILL!) clothes. I’d like to say I wasn’t depressed and was always happy. But that would be a lie. A complete lie. Shitty things had happened to me but I had money, friends, clothes, and a boyfriend to convince myself that I was totally fine. I looked great (I really did) but I had a very rocky foundation. So when things went south, the entire building crumbled like a badly retrofitted building after a California earthquake.
As with any tragedy, the rebuilding was supposed to start. And I realized that, four years after the earthquake, I still don’t know whether to rebuild or just move to another neighborhood and build something else. I’m sure it’s a common issue that many people have experienced but this feeling of stagnancy is stifling. I feel like less of an adult than I did 10 years ago or even 5 years when I ostensibly “had it all”.
So what now?
I don’t know. I don’t have answers. And for someone with a decidedly analytical profession, I’d like an answer. But life is too messy for definitiveness. So, for now, I’m sitting on top of a pile of rumble uncertain how to rebuild or even where to rebuild. Silver lining? The options might just be limitless.
74 Inches of Pure Lady 