Things Left Behind

I am sitting in my car at the supermarket parking lot, eating ice cream. The sun is setting over the skyline of this little town—the town I live in now.

As I mindlessly observe passing cars and people, my mind drifts to the poetic land of the golden hour, where chasing lights are drawing new stories. Harry Styles is playing from the speakers his “Sign of the Times” and I think to myself, that nothing could fit better into this scene. I feel myself slowly falling in love with this moment, in this town, with my new life and my new self.

It has been quite a ride, over the past few months. July—it felt like the longest month ever, as though time itself had stretched.  With its beginning in Galicia, with my dear, beautiful friend Julia, followed by our road trip, endless hours and kilometers of leaving the past behind. Reaching my homeland, which I, yet again had to learn how to belong to. 

I started from point zero—no home, no job, no money, and no partner. My emotions ranged from despair to unrealistic hope. Without the safety net of my closest family and friends, I wouldn’t have made it.

Have you ever felt like life was pushing you to start over, even when you weren’t ready? That was me, standing at the edge of the unknown, forced to jump and hope I'd land on solid ground.

For a moment I wanted to share my story, I even wrote the story and gave it a title and all… (“Burglars don’t break into empty houses”). But I did not. Somehow, it felt like whining over the spilled milk. 

So the relationship ended badly… 

So what I was experiencing was PTSD from the emotional and verbal abuse… 

Honestly, I felt shame. And above all, extreme exhaustion. (When we are experiencing long-term stress, key nutrients get depleted from our body.)

Somewhere along the way, I learned that blocking, unfollowing, muting, and unfriending can also lead to “happily ever after.”  It's part of the healing from abuse and letting go.

Finally, I stopped beating myself up for not leaving earlier. (Trauma shuts down the reasoning center in the brain and left unhealed can keep us locked in a trauma response.)

“I have done nothing all summer but wait for myself to be myself again.” (Georgia O’Keeffe)

That summer marked the end of one chapter and the painful but necessary start of a new one.

Moving once again, it was very interesting for me to observe myself based on my belongings. Who I am defined by the things I own and - more importantly - by the items I left behind. Moving so many times for the past five years, every change of place brought along choices. Some I regret, and some I praise. It is curious to look back and see my decisions based on the unknown future ( and so much hope for it ) - as in - I will not need this or that. Now, when I returned and gathered my stuff stored in my atelier for a year, many times I asked myself - where is THAT? Gone it is, as my naive past self thought I would live a different life.

Now, when summer is almost over, looking back I am feeling proud.

Life is new now. Everything is so fragile and solid at the moment. Temporary and calm. 

Being aware that it can change anytime, that I can change it anytime. The minute it does not suit me anymore. Knowing this is powerful. Tranquil.

I stepped out of my way and life is unfolding in a way I could never imagine. I feel content and serene. Hopeful and relaxed. Able to take up space, conscious of my right to be, and to ask for what is mine. 

I’m still writing my story, but now I’m holding the pen.

Love,

Johana