Two Years.

It is four days until my second anniversary.

I didn’t ever really think that I would be able to be with someone for two years. In some ways, two years feels like a lifetime and in other ways it’s amazing it hasn’t been longer.

The thing about love is this: all love is beautiful. It is illuminating, surprising, deep, frustrating, confusing, messy, complex, life-affirming, and joyous. It is something that changes the course of your values, your goals, your dreams, and yourself – but for the better. Love is all around us in everything we do. And it’s all beautiful. I would never sit here and make the claim that love I have or found is better or more significant than anyone else’s love.

But the love I have is something that’s sustained so many difficulties; demanding careers that eat up everyone’s time; frustrating nights alone when all I want is to be with the person I care for the most; utter mental breakdowns at the loss of what is, and what should or could be if we were just a little bit closer, if everything was just a little bit easier, if we were just a little more in sync in terms of location. This second year has been a year of driving, careening into ditches during storms, feeling like I’m drowning in a depressive messy state, emptying my pockets for the sake of being a huge part of every minute that I’m fortunate enough to spend with the person I love most. Honestly, it’s been so hard. And there were times I was completely discouraged and wanted to fall flat on my face and then just give up. But it’s worthwhile. Love is worthwhile. It’s the most worthwhile thing in the world. I’ll be grateful for this love forever. I wake up grateful for it every single day.

The last two years have been years of flux, of mental anguish, of huge changes in life, culture shocks, meeting new friends and leaving old ones behind, of uncertainty and frustration and insecurity and disappointment, and tough realizations. All of this is a parot of growing up and are harsh reminders that what they said to us as children is often true: that growing up sucks. But the constant force through everything, whether we were driving to the states together and pausing in sweet little towns and drinking at local breweries, or sleeping in the front seats of my car after waking up at 5:00 a.m. to catch a ferry to Vancouver Island, or whether I’m crying on his bed because I don’t want to go back to the horrible place where I live. Everything was slipping out of my hands in this lucid, liquid form. Except him. He was always there for me, through everything, buying me pizza when I felt like I failed at everything; waking up for a moment in the morning so he could put his arm around me before going back to sleep; comforting me in the middle of the night if my teeth grinding woke him up; telling me I look beautiful when I feel like garbage about myself.

I’m so grateful for these two years and as difficult and frustrating and depressing as they were, I wouldn’t trade them for anything. I got to spend two years supporting and being supported by the person who loves me when I can’t mustre up the courage to love myself, who cares for me in a way no one else has ever been, and who has truly been a pillar, a permanent thread in the tapestry of my life,  a lighthouse for my ship. He means everything to me. I’m so fortunate.

Memories I wish I could re-live.

There are so many days I wish I could go back to, or rewind back and watch again as if I’m re-watching my favourite movie. I’ve been thinking about a few of them today that give me chills with their resonance and those memories are keeping me strong and motivated this week.

1. The first time I heard “I love you” was one of the most magical feelings I’ve ever felt. While it never gets old to hear it every day, that first time I had to pick my jaw up off the floor. It was something  I could sense was coming and I didn’t know when. But he picked the most perfect moment. If I could re-live that a hundred thousand times, I would.
2. The first time I kissed someone I actually liked (and, at the time, thought I was in love with) ended so poorly, I don’t even want to get into it. But now that I’m at a safe distance and I can look at this moment with the pure innocent nostalgia that I think the Good Lord intended me to feel for this moment later in life, I’m perfectly satisfied saying I’d love to re-live it. It was another cold nighttime kiss (I apparently love those) but snow fell around us and I could almost envision this moment before it even happened. The moment led me on a string of horrible heartbreaking pain but it was all worth it for that few seconds of awkward, teeth-clicking, bag-of-trash-sitting-outside-his-apartment-door magic.
3. Concerts, even if you see the band multiple times, are experiences that cannot be repeated; you can’t redo the set list, the moment, the feelings, the people around you, the joy. The two shows that stand out to me as the ones I’d most want to re-live are the most recent time I saw Ryan Adams at the Orpheum in Vancouver, and the very first time I saw Ryan Adams & the Cardinals in Vancouver back in 2007. There was nothing quite like that first time; having been at my peak of Ryan Adams’ music, I think my whole body went into shock when I saw him for the first time. I can barely remember it. Fast forward eight years to the most recent Ryan Adams concert-going experience, Ryan Adams, injured with a broken rib, pained his way through a full band set until opting to go acoustic so he could finish up the show unscathed. It was sumptuous and full of feeling. I was leaving that city in just a little while and to bid it goodbye in this way, and think of my true love while all of this romantic amazement was happening, were just too much. I was on Cloud Nine for days afterwards.
4. I wish I could go back and re-live my meal at Mama’s Fish House in Maui, HI every single day. Not only is the restaurant shockingly beautiful and surrounded by the most amazing scenery anywhere around ever, but it was by far the best meal I’ve ever eaten in my entire life.
5. The first time I ran a half-marathon, I had just moved to Vancouver and I worked so hard that I was in the best shape of my entire life. I can’t believe I was ever that small or that fit or that disciplined. I’m running another one this summer which will demand similar attention and hard work from me (I’m trying to get back there already!) but there’s nothing like that first time. Those last fast strides to the finish line were unreal and I felt so accomplished. I used to be 200lb and a size 18-20. To be able to run all that way in a reasonable time was something I once thought completely unachievable. I felt like I could have climbed Mount Everest afterwards.
6. This one is a bit odd but I wish I could remember and re-live the first day I woke up not suffering from my first heartbreak. Time eases all wounds (though arguably, never completely heals them in many ways) and all I needed was time. But there must have been a day sometime after the dust settled that I woke up and the first thing I thought of wasn’t him. And I went about my day without feeling those familiar pangs and longings and sadnesses that I could never express without looking like a crazy person who had no right to complain about how my whole heartbreak went down. That day existed. I don’t remember it, but you think I would. If I had to make a guess, it might have been the day after he gave me that birthday gift I politely accepted without hardly a word, as it had been a few months since I decided to let him go and take my life back. I had lost almost 20lb that day. He sat across from me, and I didn’t talk to him. After that, I could have woken up completely free.
7. The first morning I woke up in my Vancouver apartment, alone, was a surreal feeling that I never thought I’d get to experience and I wish I could re-live so badly. Those days were some of my deepest and most important and most happy. Normally I’m in a good emotional space but a bad physical space. When I lived in Vancouver I was in the best physical space I could ever be in. But my emotions were all over the place. I loved the freedom and excitement of being in one of the biggest and most beautiful cities I know of, being able to live how I wanted and be anonymous and ride the skytrain around every day. I loved waking up and smelling the ocean. I loved going for long, carefree runs in Stanley Park or around the downtown area of the city on days when the fog was too thick and the hills were too big. Occupying that space was the best. Waking up for the first time and not knowing the life that awaited me when I first moved there is something I wish I could sink my feet into once again.
8. Lastly, I would love to re-live the moment when I saw my boyfriend for the first time after our first three weeks of distance. I got on a plane and I was vibrating the whole time, nervous and anxious and excited and unable to control my emotions. I felt like a caged animal about to be freed from captivity. I was worried things would change between us; I was concerned he wouldn’t love me anymore; I was afraid it would be awkward; I was nervous about how I would react to him. But instead, I was heading down the escalators to the Arrivals part of Edmonton International Airport and and I saw him waiting for me and I ran to him. I thought I was going to knock him over. We were pretty quiet but tightly holding hands the whole way home. Nothing had changed. I was pretty sure then that nothing ever would.

“The One”.

I go back and forth about whether or not there is such a thing as ‘the one’. I was watching this video by the brilliant Tim Minchin who I’ve only just heard of and thinking about whether or not there is just one ‘right’ person for everyone or if just anyone could potentially be the right person if they showed up at the best time.

Sometimes I believe in fate and sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I have to believe in fate because it’s the only thing that keeps people going when the world seems too dark to continue on. Sometimes I think that the world is a frightening place that throws unexpected curve balls that are the stuff of nightmares at you and if you have some kind of faith or belief that someone controls the puppet strings of the world, it is easier to forgive, to pray, to hope, to see 11:11 on the clock and close your eyes a little tighter for a private moment of wishing.

Other times I believe there is only randomness of life; because how else could you lose who you thought were your three very best friends when you were certain that you were brought together with those three people through the pure amazingness of fate? And how else could you end up in a place where you never, ever, ever thought you’d be just out of desperation because where you thought you were fated to be completely let you down and filled you with sad disillusionment?

If there is such a thing as ‘the one’ though, it doesn’t mean there’s someone for everyone and only that one person can possibly make you feel completely fulfilled. I think it means they make you feel so good, so complete, so full, so loved, so loving, so much better than you are, that you can’t imagine anyone else filling that role in your life, even if they weren’t handpicked for you from someone out there in the atmosphere guiding everyone’s light.

If ‘the one’ exists, it’s something that you feel inside of you. It’s a story that was written that you happened to read and didn’t share with anyone. What ‘the one’ means, is that you feel like you’re a boat that’s found its light house by accident when maybe you were looking for a different port, or you were completely lost and not looking for a port at all.

I don’t know that there’s one specific person for everyone, but when I sit with my significant other, my partner, my boyfriend, my other half, the person who holds a piece of my soul, and his arm is around me and I’m nestled into the crook of his neck and nothing needs to be said, I feel like there is. I feel like there couldn’t not be.

Love makes you believe in so many things you didn’t think you could ever believe in. It’s a strange mix of anger and passion and comfort and complacency and laughter and tears and fervent belief and fear and trust and cunning. If it wasn’t, there wouldn’t be this affirmation affiliated with the feeling of believing and understanding love for the very first time.

Is there ‘the one’? If there is, I hope everyone finds their one so they can experience first-hand how I feel right now.

 

Happiness Challenge, Day 21.

I’ve been struggling to continue with writing about ‘happiness’ because right now, my life hasn’t changed much. I feel like I’ve been talking about the same things over and over again. I’m tired of my own narrative voice and if anyone else out there is reading, I’m sure you are too. In fact, I wrote and erased and re-wrote a blog entry several times.

I’m thinking a lot about what makes me feel grateful and what keeps me going. Some of those things for me today include:

-Love and support from and for my partner
-Baking
-Going for runs
-Seeing things continually get better in my classrooms
-Random acts of kindness
-Unwinding by watching trashy reality TV
-Listening to really good albums before I go to sleep
-Longer days
-Brighter mornings
-My car

What really, does it mean to be ‘grateful’, and ‘happy’ and ‘in love’ anyways? From day to day there are so many good feelings and bad feelings, good events and bad events, and just everything in between that might be a blessing, and might be a blessing in disguise.

The world is strange. Happiness is strange. It isn’t always what we think it’s going to be. I’m just happy that I can breathe and take a step back and look at my life in such a way that things which have been recently painful for me can be back doors to happiness that I’m learning to cultivate beneath my feet.

 

 

 

Happiness 20.0.

I’ve been really tired today, and I’ve also been thinking a lot. I’ve been thinking about how it will be two weeks since I’ve seen my boyfriend (the longest we’ve been apart since the end of July) and I’m thinking about how long distance relationships are so hard as a result of not ever being able to spend ‘enough’ time together that you’re really, truly “good” by the time you leave the person. I survive long distance relationships because I have trust, love, and understanding of the circumstances we’ve both been placed into. It doesn’t come without challenges, but I’m able to survive well enough most days. It’s not perfect, but the person is perfect for me so I’m willing to put up with the circumstances.

I remember the first time he told me he loved me. I remember what the weather looked like, and the temperature, and the night… I remember what was going through my head when I heard those words for the first time. I remember thinking about how lucky I was to have found someone who was so good for me, and so good to me, and who accepted the goodness I could and wanted to bring to him.

This year has been so hard as I juggle my career and my relationship alongside my insecurities about my practice and the fears I face when I do what I do every day. I have so much to prove. I have so much to lose. And I do it because when it’s good, it’s so good. But it’s also frightening. And all the life stress makes it that much more difficult to swallow.

But this weekend I realized the most important thing I could realize at this juncture: it’s right. I have doubts and I struggle and that’s why I went on this silly ‘happiness posts’ thing in the first place. But I’m with such an amazing person. And he makes me feel and be more amazing every single time I see him, whether he’s bestowing romantic surprises on me, or whether we’re just sitting on his couch watching TV. I’m lucky. And I know how lucky I am.

Overcome.

Someone I used to know had a girlfriend and one time he said to me, “some days I am just overcome with love for my girlfriend”. And he would tell her – he would send her a text message and say just that: I am overcome with love for you today. And I understood what that meant, then. Or at least, I thought I did. I thought silly crushes I had on people in the past – the kinds of crushes where you sit around and daydream all the time – was being ‘overcome with love’. And only when I was actually overcome with love did I realize crushes like that are not love; they are a selfish need to be noticed, and they consume your thoughts with fantasies of everything that person could do for you. But it’s not love.

Being overcome with love means in part, wanting to turn your insides out and shout from the rooftops how much you love someone. But in other ways it’s keeping them in your thoughts because they’re a hug around your shoulders when you are feeling too much weight on them and they’re the person you would drive four hours to see, just so you could cheer them up and make them dinner. Being overcome with love is desperately trying to find the right words to express exactly what is going on in your heart but as cliche and silly as it sounds, there are unfortunately, no words. There just isn’t. Rather, you end up wordless, poring over silly memes and literary quotes and little shreds of others’ stories, which are all meaningless because what you have is better and truer and purer than all of that.

Being overcome with love is when you’re in someone’s arms and you don’t care about anything else. Everything becomes easier and clearer and just better than it was before you were there. You don’t even remember, know or care what was before. Was there a before? Before was this place before you realized how suddenly when you look up at a ceiling it’s not a ceiling, but an open sky full of stars that you can just lie there and count.

Being so overcome with love is this feeling you can’t shake or understand, but you don’t care to. There is no logic to love – you have it or you don’t and when you do and suddenly it hits you – multiple times throughout the amazingly powerful two years you have together- it makes you tie your own heart into knot after knot after knot and you never want to untie it. Ever. Real love like this is madness. It’s insane, crazy-eyed, sprials of crazy insane knock-the-wind-out-of-you goodness and frustration and happiness and everything else.

I love him. I love him, I love him, I love him, in the most vulnerable yet fearless, in the most amazingly strong and authentic and shout-it-from-the-rooftops way I can, and I don’t even mean to. It’s because I’m overcome with love.

Happiness Challenge, Day 4.

You know those weeks where no matter what good you can extract from a bad situation, you just can’t be optimistic? Is the world always expected to be optimistic when it’s on an open stage and everyone is watching? Why do we feel like we need to look our happiest, our most fulfilled, and our most upbeat when we expect that people are looking at us? No wonder so many people are numb to emotions – because in a world where we post everything about ourselves, emotions – real, raw, sometimes negative and painful emotions – are unwelcome in our public representations. We pretend workouts don’t hurt, we pretend that breakups don’t hurt, and we pretend to forgive everyone and give everyone the benefit of the doubt. We’re at this constant battle between what we feel and how we want people to see we’re feeling. We in many ways, have moved from seeking attention, to hoping to make others jealous of our full, optimistic, successful lives where we’re constantly our best selves. It’s all bullshit.

I had a week this week where try as I might, I could not really and truly be optimistic. I was desperate for reprieve from a long, cold, busy, frustrating, stressful week and stressful thoughts about an uncertain and cloudy future; realities that might be mine which are difficult and taxing to accept. And it was not something I was able to shake off or look past, no matter how badly I wanted to show people how good I had it and how positive I was about my life. Sometimes I’m mentally and physically exhausted and unable to put on a happy face.

But I promised myself that this movement I am trying – one which is designed to make me feel better and make the best of a bad situation, and involves countless hours of counselling and writing and soul-searching and putting my heart and soul into things that actually do matter – is important to gain peace of mind and remember that there is always good.

In this realization I had about the mental and physical block between me and the fulfilling happiness I’ve lacked for such a long time, I noticed something: I am comfortable expressing when things are too painful and too frustrating and too stressful to even begin to solve, there are people in my life that I can and will be my completely authentic self around and that means so much.

I was thinking about the movie “Inside Out” and considering the idea that sadness and joy must work together in order to create and foster empathy and make people feel better in their darkest times. When I feel loved and comforted and my unfounded fears are not something I need worry about, when I can nestle into someone like a caccoon of safety, I can be authentic. I never need to put on a show for anyone. I never need to constantly pretend there is nothing wrong or bad in my life. I can be vulnerable and be okay with being vulnerable. That is the world. That is love. That is an authentic life filled with truth and agency.

And today, in some odd non-conventional way, I’m very happy with that.

 

Rewind.

Here is a selfie of me before the first date. I don’t know why I took this photo; it’s as if I knew it would be important to me someday.

I don’t love this photo by any means. But it reminds me of a night where I was nervous and didn’t know what to expect, and didn’t know how much my life could change since the day I looked like this in this living room.

Fifteen Things I’m Glad I Did This Year.

This was a big year for me in many ways. Sometimes I felt like I was backing up into a corner and other times I felt like I was bursting through double doors. Here are the best things I did, the best decisions I made, and the best memories I’ll keep from 2015.

1. Going to Sasquatch again was one of the best decisions I made this year; with my new career life, that American May long weekend isn’t the best time for me to go away anymore, if I’m even able to. So sadly, this may have been the last time I might be able to head to Sasquatch, or any festival for the matter. There’s something that happens at festivals – we get to be young gain and we get to experience a life of what I refer to as ‘peaceful anarchy’ – the idea that everyone gets to collate and join metaphorial (and sometimes literal) hands but outside the confines of society. It’s a magical place full of amazing music. I’ll really miss festival life, especially in the Gorge. But this year’s festival was wonderful and to go back again and live those experiences again was something extraordinarily well worth it for me heading into the final year of my twenties.
2. I was incredibly grateful to move back to Alberta this year as well, for reasons that were right for me, and incredibly practical, and also incredibly fortunate. What I found in terms of a passion for the love of my life and the career I’ve been waiting for was back here; and to stay in a city I loved without those things felt at the time, like a foolish sacrifice to make for what was best for my life in the long run. I made a difficult choice. Time will tell if this will all pay off, but it was the best thing I could have done and I’m so  much happier now with the certainties of what brought me back here in the first place.
3. I lost a few really important people in my life this year who felt like belittling me for whatever reasons they had. Who ousted who is a question I ask myself too. But despite how said-ousted people argue the situation, I made the decisions to walk away from these people in the end. Hanging on and hanging on with the hope that the people you used to know who have changed into ugly, selfish and mean versions of the people you knew once, to revert back to who they were, is a pointless and frustrating endeavor. I’m not going to pretend it was easy for me to let go of any of this. I’m not going to pretend either that I was happy and felt nothing doing it. But again…. sometimes what we don’t necessarily want is actually what is for the best. So with that said, FUCK those people. FUCK THEM. What I’m doing for me now and the people I’m doing it with are better for me than the people I thought I knew. And fuck me too, for not knowing better sooner.
4. Following a positivity movement right here on this blog over the month of July 2014, I reached out to the ex. My first love. And what I got in return was the assumption that I was doing so to rekindle some sort of flame (I wasn’t. I was actually just trying to make peace with former ‘enemies’). Following the move on the part of my partner and I to become “Facebook official” I noticed through a mutual friend that First Love had blocked me. Sigh. Facebook is interesting. It is a series of sophisticated communication that allows us to present ourselves how we want, to who we want. It allows us to be dialed into our friends, family and acquaintances any time we want. It allows us access to pertinent and crucial, and frankly, useless information, from our phone and our workplace and our PCs whenever. I hear people talk about its frivolity but really, blocking is a statement. And it’s quite a very large one at that. But having said that, what I am grateful for is to see something very important about First Love: that he is a sad, petulant, egotistical little child. I will never understand any of the bullshit he put me through in the past, and I don’t care to understand any of the stupid bullshit he’s trying to put me through in the present.
5. While this is not one thing, it is a million little things but since my shot at my current career, I have found it important to note that I have really worked hard at becoming more assertive in 2015. I showed solid assertiveness in standing up for my prick of a landlord after a really unpleasant standoff I had with him just before I moved out. I show something resembling assertiveness that I have in my job every single day. It’s something that, when I first started this whole career I never, ever thought I could do and I do surprisingly decently mot days. I’m not some masterful guru of assertiveness but I do my best and my best now is better than my best two years ago and beyond, so that’s something I’m incredibly grateful for.
6. I’m so glad that I saw Wilco again this year. Despite that it’s no secret how much I LOVE Wilco, I’ve only seen them in concert four times, including this one in 2015. It was like a nice break from everything that was garbage about the few months prior to my move. I was able to stand front row-centre for the show and watch my favourite band melt my face off and remember how good it feels to be young and unencumbered and independent living in a world-class city and hanging out with awesome people doing what I love to do.
7. I’m not an athlete by any means, but this year I put those insecurities aside and tried rowing in an eight-man rowing class. I was HORRIBLE at it. HORRIBLE. But the scenery was beautiful, I made minute connections with friendly people, and I learned a little tiny bit of a new skill. With more practice I might have been a lot better than I was, but the environment and timing were not right for me in the end. But still, I’m glad to have tried.
8. This year, I spent a great deal of time (and money) consistently travelling to and from the city I lived in and the city where my long distance partner lives. Being apart was painful and getting such little time was even more painful; furthermore, the suffering of not knowing when or how we would be closer again prior to me taking a job closer to him was incredibly stressful and frustrating. The world was topsy turvy and difficult and pricey for the first half-year of our long distance relationship. And what I learned from that is, just how important it is to be around the people you’re insanely in love with as much as possible. Home really is a person and not a place.
9. I’m so glad I never quit searching for what I thought might make me the happiest and most secure. As I move forward in my career I find that sometimes I feel like crying on a daily basis, or tearing my hair out, or walking away and never coming back. I am overwhelmed and tired and burnt out and often incredibly frustrated. But — never bored. And never checked out. And never with the urge to quit. After searching for the better part of a year, I DID find what I was looking for. I don’t know if it’s all I dreamed of but I never quit. And that’s what’s important.
10. I’m glad that this year I didn’t succumb to the negative feelings I have about myself. I learned that when you have love and a purpose, your looks and the shallow views of an ugly and misogynistic society are second to everything else that’s important. I’m not where I would like to be in terms of body image and physical health. But what would have been a spear to my heart and self-esteem in the past, is now a mere inconvenience.
11. I live in an incredibly small and concentrated right-wing conservative riding in my town. And I never really saw the purpose in voting, as for these reasons I didn’t think the party I vote for would win in my riding, so what’s the point? Having said that, I’m so glad I voted in the federal election; as a Canadian citizen, I have a right to vote for the party of my choice regardless of the riding and what kind of educator would I be if I forewent the civic duty of voting? In addition this election is HISTORIC and I was pleased to be a part of seeing a generational and image turnaround of my country.
12. Ever since I left my advising career, I’ve always wondered how life would be if I went back into that line of work. I did, briefly, in Vancouver; in a different capacity, with slightly different duties, and in a very different working environment. I hated it. I was bored and under-appreciated and I felt like all the work I’d put into doing something more was wasted going back to Square One. I was glad I had this opportunity so I had a clear vision of what I wanted, and what I didn’t want.

13. Only recently did I come to the conclusion that I didn’t want to live as an empty shell of a human being in this black hole of a complete lack of confidence. After years of suffering through crippling self-criticism and low self-esteem, I have learned that I can’t do it alone. I have started getting real help for that,  and I look forward to seeing where it takes me.
14. After learning more about “self regulation”, I have come to find that I have happy places I venture to as well when I feel lost and lonely. I have been baking more and now that I have people to bake for, it’s been a great way for me to make people happy and clear my head.
15. The world can be a rotten place. But when you can shield yourself by loving the shit out of someone else and have them love you back the same way you can get through the tough times – yours and the world’s – through the constant reminder that no, it’s not all bad. I’m glad I allowed my walls to come down with the person I love the most and allow them to help me through the darker and drearier parts of this year. My partner and I both saw a lot of strife and personal tragedies this year and towards the end of the year things became smoother and clearer. I’m glad I had the support and love of him to help me be the best I could be this year.

To anyone reading this: I hope you too, can take the time to articulate fifteen wonderful things that happened to you in 2015 and that you have an enjoyable end of the year.

Fate?

I’ve never believed in fate. I’ve never believed that “everything happens for a reason” or anything like that. My life has just ‘happened’. Events or people I thought were miraculous, as it turns out, were not – I have been wrong about a lot. Unfortunate experiences have led me to believe that no, there is no so-coincidental-it-must-be-magic events. It’s all just random.

These days though, things are either a little rosier, or lack so much shine that I can only really believe that they’re meant to be. When I applied for the position I have now, it just felt ‘right’ to me. The journey I’ve undergone there, the good people, the great moments that remind me of why and how I became a teacher in the first place, have told me that I made the right decision, even when things seem dark and scary and ‘wrong’. I’ve come back “home”, whatever “home” may seem like to people… and that was the best choice I could have made in my career life. It’s hard to be alone out here. It’s hard to be out in the frigid cold. But I walk into that building and I get my day started and it’s 1.5 parts intimidating and stressful, and 1 part good. And for someone new to this, that’s the best I could hope for thus far.

Fate to me is also being with the person who makes me feel so, so, so much less alone when I’m with him. It’s not his responsibility or obligation to pull me up and believe in me, but he does, relentlessly. He’s proud of me; he tells me he’s proud of me. He calls me and doesn’t hang up until I feel better. He sort of vaguely wakes up in the middle of the night and will wrap his arm around me and I sort of vaguely wake up and feel protected. Fate to me is meeting someone from the same city I came from and then being willing and able to both return, together. Fate is being grateful that of all the schools in all of the Lower Mainland of BC, we happened to be at the same one, which happened to put us all together once a week so we could get to know each other from the start. Fate is having a horrible first teaching practicum which incited my thankful switch to another school. And fate is obtaining a close-knit second family.

What do I believe about the universe? I don’t know. But I listened to what the universe was telling me and I refuse to ignore anything it ever tells me again. I’ll continue to fight for everything I have because I’m so, so certain that it’s destined to be right in the end. All of it. The gains and the losses and the hardships and the boundless love. All of it is worthwhile.