Hellooooo, those who are still readers! Welcome back to my blog, and how I have missed you all. It makes my heart warm when anyone interacts with these posts, votes on what they’d like to read about, likes my stories…because I write these blogs just as much for others to relate and find comfort as I do to get things off of my chest. So, if you haven’t already, make sure to follow my blog’s Instagram: @flyonthewallblog

Enough with the formalities, though. Let’s get right to it. Now, I must admit, this post has been challenging for me to write and/or think about because of the self-deprecating voice in my head; but at the end of the day, I hope to spread some positive affirmations in all of our lives during this dreary October (!) weather. Taking a moment, then, to acknowledge that self-critic. She’s going to show up. She might even be the one beginning this piece. Hey there, girl. Stay awhile. But STOP CONTROLLING MY LIFE!!!

Ah. Had to get that off my chest. Can you tell I’ve been really internalizing group therapy? Let’s begin.

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Picture this: You live in a rent-stabilized apartment in Park Slope, with two of the sweetest people in the world. You’re blocks away from Prospect Park. You have a well-paying job filled with people who respect you and your work. You have been getting to do it all: You write a blog (okay meta), you sing in choir, you prioritize your mental and physical health with therapy and lots and lots of NYC walking. It’s something of a dream, is it not?

And then, one day, you end up in the hospital. That mental health you thought you were prioritizing – yeah, you weren’t. While you’re there, you convince yourself that all of those things in your life? Yeah, they were the reason you were there. And so you leave, and decide instantaneously the job, the apartment, and, as a result, your entire social life that was the very reason you hung on so long — all of it needs to crumble. Fresh start.

And suddenly you are 24 years old and back at home (with the lovely support of my parents – super grateful for this). Because you no longer have a job to support you, your social life has disintegrated – as it turns out, it’s super hard to hang out with people when money isn’t in the picture. 

Now, if you haven’t figured it out, this is my story, as are most of these posts. Let’s continue in the first person. 

Shout-out to all of the people who warned me of this: my roommate and best friend: “Okay, well, let’s not do anything without a plan;” my psychiatrist: “I would encourage you not to make any decisions while you’re vulnerable…” my boyfriend: “your job doesn’t have to be this life or death babe.”

Whyyyyy? Why did I let go of something so good? I’ve spent so long afterwards scrolling through positive affirmation posts to try and make myself feel better. None of them, however, seem to account for setbacks of your own doing – choices you made. It was hard for me to sympathize with myself when it all could’ve been prevented. 

But I did it, y’all. And you know what I said to all of people’s concerns? “This is God’s plan for me.”

Now, I know what you’re thinking. Clearly, I was not exactly right in the head. Clearly, I was truly not well enough to make decisions. You would be correct about all of that!

Even still, as ridiculous as that response may sound to such logical concerns, it’s actually been a helpful reframing of how I’ve learned to live with setbacks. Even setbacks of my own doing. And you don’t have to be religious to think this way. When you think to yourself, instead of any of the self-critical thoughts that come flooding in, “okay, this was meant to happen to me. This was all part of my story,” it strangely helps. Even if just for a moment, some relief comes flooding over you. This is all sorted out already. There is a purpose to this. 

I will say, it’s not exactly foolproof, as it may take a lot of pushing and prodding to really, fully believe that a bad thing was meant to happen to you. And sometimes, when things are really bad, you may live with the doubt a little bit longer. With the “why me” or “why did I do that” or “how could this have happened to me?”

That’s okay too. That’s also an important part of your story. To question it. Because every narrative needs some rising tension to make the climax that much sweeter. 

But if you never overcome any adversity, you are not a human. Yes, some have to overcome more than others. Yes, there are so many layers to adversity. Yes, it’s not fair that we can’t all deal with equal amounts of it. 

Truly though, it makes you a better leader. A more well-rounded person. A storyteller. And so, if I may say it, go easy on yourself. Your plan is in action, and this is just the moment where you realize your story.