two thousand and eighteen
Two thousand and eighteen gave me two thousand and eighteen headaches. I left a position I built and loved, and said goodbye to a community of students I love more than myself. I folded into myself after learning to stand tall in weekly therapy sessions. I found comfort in my reflection and forever in my husband's embrace. I won awards and was scared I made the wrong decision in leaving my job.
The weight of isolation stifled my confidence, but my pups looked at me with unadulterated love. I lost my left eyebrow and my nose piercing. I tried hundreds of test wedding cakes, and was too lazy to keep up with my skin regimen. I was accepted into a number of PhD programs, but memorized the letters of rejection. I danced on the beach and felt my grandfather's presence on my wedding day. I felt uncomfortable in my body and read more books that fed my soul.
I cried in my driveway after 12+ hr workdays, and strengthened my relationships with women of color in my circle. I thrived in my first semester and my favorite author kissed both my cheeks. I reclaimed my superpower and rewatched all of Grey's Anatomy for the third time. I grappled with racism and misogyny (and other -isms) from colleagues and family members. I ate banana bread with a new mentor and relearned APA. I threatened divorce over dirty laundry and found myself deeper in love despite the distance. I made new friends and tried to unlearn my own toxic behaviors. I laughed at myself and found joy in my own company. Two thousand and eighteen gave me two thousand and eighteen reminders to choose myself.
