do we need to run away to find ourselves?
or is it possible to do that at home?
notes:
004 of “the aftermath of a life on pause” series
Bridgerton S3 & Between Two Kingdoms by Suleika Jaouad spoilers
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Dear friends,
It’s one thing to heal a broken bone, it’s another to heal a broken sense of self. As some of you may know, I’ve suffered from physical complications for five and a half years. Surgeries, patience, wheelchairs, and large doses of hope helped me heal from my ankle surgery gone awry, my year of blindness (not exactly a bone but same vibe), and a broken elbow. I didn’t get into one crazy accident or some other kind of fast and terrible calamity, my complications were more of a slow pile-up. One medical mishap after another that I could not catch a break from. Fret not though, I found my strength as we so often do in times of unthinkable change. Eventually, my elbow healed, my vision was restored as best it could be, and I was able to walk again. While there had been so much uncertainty with every hospital visit and doctor’s appointment, the thing I did not see coming the most was the absolute mess I’d become in the aftermath of it all.
You know when you’re on a rollercoaster and the tracks are shaking and you’re scared that you might die, so you’re screaming at the top of your lungs, full of energy, but as soon as the ride stops you just feel dizzy and sick? Well, that’s kind of what the aftermath of medical trauma feels like: dizzy, sickening, and wishing you could go back to the moment before you went on that ride… and didn’t.
It’s been 2 years, and I’m still trying to figure out how to right the ride. See: figure out how to heal. I’m convinced you can’t go through life-changing pain without arriving on the other side with your identity turned upside down and a tremendous amount of deep, unanswerable questions lingering in your head. That’s why anyone who seems wise usually has a story. The kind that feels unbelievable until it happens to you. Once you’re cracked open, you are forever changed. Now, you have to re-learn how to exist in this world. And that process leaves one completely discombobulated. There is no “one-size-fits-all” guide for healing. We just try and try and try again (a very dizzying cycle).
But, does that trying need to be done on one’s own, or can growth happen in the comfort of the nest?
growing pains while alone
The last time I experienced growing pains (not to trivialize the aftermath of trauma but at its core that’s what this feels like), I was 21. I was living in LA. Living out the life I’d always dreamt of. Sadly, I didn’t like it. Too slow. Too fake. Too nonseasonal. After 6 months, I moved back home (Toronto) for a short stint before jetting off to NYC, which turned out to be more my pace.
Unlike LA, where my parents were paying my rent, and some friends from back home lived only 5 minutes away, I was all by my lonesome. No mom or dad or friends. Just me and my new job, in a big, inspiring city. I was homeless for a few weeks - sleeping on new coworkers’ couches, under my desk at work, or (for one night) staying awake in the lobby of a busy hotel, but I never lost my spirit. In NYC, I learned about the bravery that lived within me. I learned how to tap into and trust in my own instincts. I discovered the extent of my competence. And, my ability to learn and grow.
After finding a roommate and an apartment, I learned how to be my own best friend. How to create routine and manage my time. How to pay bills and depend on myself. I was young, and (probably a little) naive, but I felt sure of who I was. Sure that I could take on my new responsibilities. Sure that the decisions I was making were my own, free from the influence of a well-intentioned parent. That gave me so much confidence. It felt like I was at that part in any coming-of-age movie where the main character has transformed and they’re about to give us a big final monologue of closure and reassurance that they’ll be ok.
Could I have become this person while living under my parents’ roof? I’m not so sure.
When you have no comfort to use as a crutch that is when you learn to walk on your own. Like Francesca said, (in Bridgerton) when she explained to her mother why she needed to leave the nest to truly know herself,
“I would’ve been too tempted to come home regularly”.
I believe that temptation - to seek the comfort of home whenever it gets hard - would not have set me free. Or, at least not in the same capacity.
Is this proof that growing & healing (a deeply personal journey) need to be done alone?
growing pains while in a relationship
When I went through this medical saga - with my ankle, eyes, and elbow - I was forced to become someone opposite of who I was.
Dependent. Unsure of myself. Stagnant.
All the transformation I had accomplished while living alone in NYC was ruined. It was as if I took a time machine and retreated back to exactly who I was before New York.
I tried to hold on to parts of me I’d uncovered in NYC - my spirit, optimism, and upbeat attitude towards life. But year after year, they started to fade. I was delusionally optimistic, but bouts of pessimism were creeping in. My reality was so different than my mentality, yet nothing was changing. I questioned whether my resistance to accepting who I needed to be to survive, was actively hurting my ability to do that. In the same way denial of a problem only makes it fester.
Eventually, I succumbed. I tried my best to temper my ambitions that didn’t regard my health and sought to enjoy the slow pace of my life.
My boyfriend met me, and fell in love with me, halfway through becoming this opposite person. He knew glimpses of who I used to be through stories I told him and videos he watched but he couldn't know the full extent to which I’d changed. This is important to note because there are times in my recovery process when my grieving is difficult to understand. More importantly, there’s a part of me that might be holding back on fully blooming in fear that my newly born self won’t be someone he had intended to be with. This is an unintentional restraint from “the nest” that can hinder you from being fully realized.
The day I was suddenly told I could walk again - I was finally allowed to let my old self back in. Only problem was, I couldn’t find her. She was gone and I was hardly recognizable to myself. I tried to trudge on, hoping I’d walk my way back to her, but last week I mourned that idea. See: I cried like a little baby out of nowhere, seemingly for no reason.
I felt defeated and lost. I am less dependent, but not fully independent. I can see ways I latch onto comfort over growth. And I find it easy to excuse that lack of effort by calling it a strategy. “You don’t need to waste your energy on doing xyz… this is what they call working smarter, not harder”.
With hope as my reigning drive, I started looking for answers in memoirs. All of the stories I read seemed to have a solo healing expedition in the aftermath of their trauma. That’s when I thought: was my environment keeping me stuck? Did I need to go on some kind of Liz Gilbert Eat, Pray, Love journey? A 100-day Suleika Jaouad road trip? An 1100-mile Pacific Crest Trail trek Cheryl Strayed style, to recover? To find myself. Did I need to leave everything behind and move to a new country like I’d done at 21 or, is it possible to achieve growth without running away?
the answer
I don’t have a final answer to this as I’m still in the thick of finding my way. I don’t know if going through trauma is a lifelong sentence of discovery and reinvention or if there are notable periods of certainty in oneself. Sometimes the weight of trauma is hard to forget and now that we know the other shoe can drop, we want to protect ourselves (even if only subconsciously) from future betrayal if it does. Cause that shit hurts.
What I do know, is that I don’t want to leave my long-term relationship, nor can one up and leave every time they go through growing pains. I don’t feel like that’s how life or relationships are supposed to work. There’s no denying that the built-in support system is nurturing, encouraging, and helpful. At times, my growth and my partner’s help can feel at odds with each other. But maybe that’s just part of the journey?
I believe being vulnerable with my boyfriend, taking the space I need when I need it, and making time to focus on and deepen our connection are crucial in making this work. There is something beautiful about witnessing the growth and resilience of a person you love. There’s also courage in letting them witness you through that process. After all, isn’t that one of our greatest cravings in life - to be witnessed, to be loved in all stages of our lives, to be accepted as we are, and for who we become? Growth in this dynamic can feel slower at times, but perhaps this way we will reap a life that exceeds our wildest dreams.
What is that African proverb again?
If you want to go fast, go alone.
If you want to go far, go together.
with love,
EVIE <3
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