"Sometimes when you lose, you win."

This is by far the longest I've gone without writing. Where did a month and a half go?

Generally, I do my best to put myself out there and share even some of my most vulnerable moments, but the last month and a half I felt as though I was being rolled in a giant wave and couldn't figure out which was was up. 

Honestly, it's entirely embarrassing. I left my job, my family and friends and Pennsylvania with the goal of finding my passion- that thing that makes me excited to wake up and go do it everyday (or at least not make me wonder if maybe I sold my soul to pay my rent). 

I spent an intensely life changing year in Estes Park, CO (which I seem to have left with impeccable timing as it's a giant flood zone currently) working at a residential high school with incredible teenagers who all had amazing resilience and strength; they taught me more about myself than I would've ever anticipated.

After a year of being constantly immersed in activity/work and surrounded by people, my fellowship ended and I returned back to Pennsylvania to be with my friends, family, and largely- the man I love. 

Initially, it was relief to finally be with my boyfriend, and especially to have the constant stress and frequent sensation that I was failing in being (good) enough alleviated. But as the weeks rolled on, I became increasingly more frustrated not knowing what my next steps were career/work/job wise. 

I realized that I hadn't found my passion. Not even close. 

"Who wants to read about my confused anxious floundering??" I'd ask when questioned about the lack of writing, but then one of my friends said, "Probably a lot of people. You're not the only one who struggles through times like these."

Oh. Right.

So, here it is. Even as I'm writing this, I hesitate and wonder if I should delete it all, but who knows- maybe someone out there doesn't need a 'how-to' or some profound revelation/inspiration, maybe they just want to know they aren't the only one wondering what the fuck to do next.

I realize that it may sound as though I regret returning; however, that couldn't be further from the truth. On the flip side of my angsty wandering/wondering is a revolutionary love that is, baby step by baby step, teaching me to let go and have a little trust in life.


I've never been good at waiting. Patience is not one of my (strongest) virtues. From what I can remember, this is the first time in my life I've felt this clueless and still, but that said, I've also never been very good at resting and allowing myself time to process and heal.

I'm currently in a position where I have the luxury of taking my time to figure out what it is I want so I don't end up in the same place I was in before I moved away (miserable and depressed), while stepping aside to finally attend to some old wounds.

At this point, I have no clear ideas of where I'm heading... but then again, maybe we don't always need to be heading somewhere. Maybe sometimes we need to learn to be still once in awhile so we're not always missing our lives while looking for the next big thing.

Maybe this moment IS the big thing.

And when I stop stressing out about my future for a hot second, I realize just how good my life is .right.now.