2020 Reflections... a year of radical growth
“That’s not what I meant,” I declared.
And I remember thinking: Woah, when did I get so bold?
He’d misunderstood some little thing I was talking about, and I stopped to clarify my point before the conversation continued. This was a moment of personal victory and pride for me - realizing I’d broken free of the fear that once gripped my voice. In this ordinary conversation with my partner, I spoke up… and for the first time, it happened naturally, without hesitation or an inner pep-talk.
This is how I’ve come to realize what happens in the ordinary moments is often the most important sign of growth or room for improvement.
When I met Horst last November, I would never have spoken up to let someone know they had misunderstood me. (Honestly, it would have been a miracle if I even spoke loudly enough to be heard at all. Let alone purposefully communicating to express my own opinion.)
2020 Wasn’t The Tragedy For Me That It Was For A Lot Of People.
In the fall of 2019, just a few months before the pandemic started, I’d moved into an RV along the Oregon coast to get away from the world and write my memoir, Raped, Not Ruined. I’d moved from downtown Boise; Idaho’s beautiful and busy capital city. The time I spent on the coast between September 2019 and February 2020 was deeply reflective. I rose early to write my book, did yoga and meditated in the crisp mornings by the lake, and spent a lot of time walking my three dogs through the forest and sand dunes. I spent most afternoons on the beach or in my favorite little Old Town coffeeshop along the bay… and the only company I kept was the neighbor I came to love (but that’s another story).
Around Thanksgiving last year, my now-ex husband joined me on the coast - and by the end of January, he was back in Idaho and the divorce was pending. I couldn’t fit back into the life and roles I’d left behind. (Truth be told, the marriage had been crumbling for years. The divorce was liberation for me. A relief, more than anything. Bittersweet, sad, but mostly… I felt I could finally be myself.) And that’s the note in which I began 2020.
I’m writing this on December 22, 2020… from Panama City Beach, Florida
And I’m not afraid to speak up anymore. In fact, I’ve spoken more fully and openly this year than ever before. I’ve spoken my dreams into existence, shared vulnerable fears and struggles, hit financial and emotional rock bottom, pulled myself out of depression and addiction, built an incredible marketing business, and become a whole human being.
The first quarter of this year was a roller coaster of guilt, self-doubt, forgiveness, shame, and fear.
I was so afraid of what I might find inside of myself after I let go of the boy I’d been tied to since eleven years old. Learning to trust myself outside of the confines of my family, my husband, being a dogmom, and every other gilded cage I’d built to keep myself busy… it was a shock to peel it all away and find that there was still something left behind. Something all me. Something raw that I’d never seen before… at least not since I was a little girl.
By summer, the pandemic was in full-swing, and the eerie terror or Trump’s reign shook my life at home. His supporters flew flags high all over the RV park and I began to feel less and less safe in the little paradise I’d picked out for myself at the edge of the world. When George Floyd was murdered, the tiny town showed more colors that hurt my heart to see. I talked with the Black man at the gas station the next afternoon… he’d always been all smiles and friendliness before, and I could see the pain in his walk before I even saw his face. It was the first time I felt, right there in the moment with the human being in front of me, shame and fury and guilt for my whiteness and the disgusting racism all around us. I told him I was sorry, and that I was with him. I thanked him. I felt helpless, but he said it meant a lot to hear.
Not long after that, I encountered Rachel Rodgers and her Anti-Racism Town Hall. I watched, I signed the pledge, and I got to work. By July, I was a member of her membership community, and I’ve been rebuilding my life from the ground up with her incredible guidance - learning about inclusivity, anti-racism, personal responsibility on a financial and energetic (like, self-care and sustainability) level. It’s been ground-breaking and has taken my whole beautiful vision to spread kindness in the world and transformed that into something much bigger - much more tangible.
Thanks to Rachel and her community, I’ve reimagined what’s possible for me and started taking my mission seriously.
It’s not just something to putz around with anymore; it’s not just a casual hobby. It’s the fire of knowing that this is my one and only life… and the calling in my heart to build grace and connections through writing and open conversation… and the healing I’ve craved from my childhood, the miscarriages, the abuse, and the rape, all packed into one.
I knew that I was here to do more in this life than just heal…
(Not because healing isn’t important - of course it is - but because healing is just the beginning.) Now I’m learning what it takes to grow.
In October, I left the Oregon coast en route to the gulf coast of Florida. I spent a week in Idaho with my family and received a beautiful message from one of my beloved semi-adopted grandparents… that maybe I don’t need roots right now, and maybe roots aren’t the point for me at all. One of the wisest women I know shared this little bit of permission to explore freely and released the pressure to settle down and have the deep roots I always thought I needed to develop in order to be “a responsible adult,” and it has set me free more with every passing day.
I spent my 25th birthday in Galveston, TX and touched the waters of the gulf for the first time. My first experience of warm ocean water. A week later, we settled into our first condo in Florida - a place called Okaloosa Island, where the beaches are made of white crystal sand. We’ve moved further along the panhandle since, and while the landscape and climate hasn’t grown on me, I’ve found grounded peace and gratitude in myself once again. These days, I find myself longing for the next coast and for a cooler climate with fuller, greener trees.
A final lesson that snuck its way in today is about what I’ve missed out on by striving for perfection and grand promises rather than leaning into small deeds done well.
My little sisters are turning 20 and 18 in the next two months and… it’s just… ?!?!
When I moved out eight years ago (wait, it’s been eight years?!?!?!) I thought I was getting out to go learn how to get free from our past. I was going to find them the way out and then bring them along with me.
I meant to find the secret… the one that made adulthood healthy and stable and peaceful and the secret that transforms you from a scared little girl to a confident, expressive, and powerful grown woman.
I’ve spent the past eight years scrambling to figure myself out, to find the balance of loving grace and discipline and patience and hard work and faith to make my dreams come true and to build the strength in myself that I knew I’d need to be able to hold space for these beautiful children to grow into. Now I realize they’ve grown up largely without a sister in their teens… I was so busy trying to find them a perfect solution that I forgot and missed the chance to love them deepest through the ages that were among the hardest for me. How did that happen?
What blows my mind, most of all, is how there is nothing I love more than to be there for my sisters.
Just like there’s nothing I love more than to write, reflect, and be in nature.
And yet, when I feel like I haven’t done everything right - it’s what I love the most that gets put on the back burner. I feel I have to hold off on the important stuff until I’ve taken care of the to-do’s and earned the right to relax into what’s easy and natural for me.
Going into 2021, I’ve chosen a new theme…
Radiance.
Because that’s the glow, the natural radiating, bright warmth and innate outpouring of the soul… and it’s not something that you work for or force or earn. It’s just your essence, your loving core with nothing in the way (or else seeping out around anything that tries to get in the way, because that love will always find a way out).
Radiance, to me, means leaning into the strengths and passions that call your soul. Be it loving your sisters deeply or writing imperfectly or growing one step at a time without knowing for certain where the next few steps may take you. That’s what I’m honoring in 2021. More of those small deeds, done. Less of the grand promises that leave my heart aching and shatter the trust I’ve been trying to build in myself for years… the trust that may be closer than I realized; and now time will tell.
2019 took me to the edge of the world that felt completely out of reach.
2020 took me to the other side of the continent, and defined new edges of my soul.
2021 is beckoning me to edges of seas on the other side of the world.
Wherever I find myself, wherever I might go, my intention is to go with grace and love and an open heart… and to do it imperfectly, because done today is better than the promise of something grand tomorrow. Now I know better.
