So this year pretty much kicked my ass. I started off knowing things needed to change, NYE 2018 I recall sitting at my kitchen table in my Crown Heights apartment in Brooklyn, my (at the time) fiance was out shooting a party where he was hired as the photographer. My baby was in the bed. It was just me and a bottle of something, probably white wine knowing myself, and my notebook.
I proceeded to write out some goals. I wrote a list of about 20 bullet points for myself ranging from actually putting some work behind the songwriting I do to hopefully turn it into a career to paying off credit card debt. Buried in the heap was a goal that I didn’t really know how to feel about, however, I wrote it down knowing it needed to be released into the universe. I set a goal for myself to get out of my relationship if it was not for me.
Five months later things came to an extreme ending. Things happened in a way that I could have never foreseen and by June 2019 I was certainly out of that relationship. My prayers were answered. Goal achieved. But I was also in a very unfortunate, physically limiting situation with a toddler and in a state of delirium about my reality.
I had three fractures in my upper tibia, my ankle had been screwed back together by a surgeon at New York Presbyterian and a torn meniscus. I spent the better part of the summer in a lime green cast from my foot to my mid-thigh and then transitioned into a brace and boot for the fall. I gradually learned how to walk again and as of today, things feel pretty ok. Certainly not normal, but looking back four months ago, this felt impossible.
I flew out from New York with my kid, most of my things and one of my closest friends to my home town in North Carolina shortly after the surgery with my leg in the cast. It was evident that being at home with help and support and a place to sit comfortably with my leg up was best for me.
Over the months I went in and out of various mental states, one day feeling highly optimistic about the future. The next feeling like I was underwater with pressure pushing me under as if I would drown in the sea of decisions that needed (and mostly still do) to be finalized about what would come next. All I knew was the weight of my relationship, that burden, was off of me and that door closing felt fantastic. But that didn’t come without a whole basket of fears and unknowns.
Now, at the top of the new year I’ve reached a place of needing to regain control. I’m deep into rehab coming off the last surgery for my knee and expect to finish in February, but what else? My mind has been in a haze since this whole situation began. What can I do to gain clarity, peace of mind and begin to feel better about my physical appearance? Months of coping with yummy food and a glass of wine always at my finger tips has certainly done a number on me.
I’ve chosen to embark on another Whole 30 journey. I know it won’t be easy. Living in my parents’ house where they pretty much eat the same cycle of foods weekly — spaghetti, baked chicken, fried chicken or fish, and an endless stream of sandwiches — needing to cook near daily and ensure I have compliant foods on hand at all times will undoubtedly be a challenge. Also, my two year old isn’t exactly thrilled when new things show up on her plate so how dare I offer her anything but mac n’ cheese or peanut butter.
Nope, won’t be easy but if I were aiming for easy I wouldn’t have achieved most of the things I’ve accomplished thus far. I’m accepting the challenge and looking forward to the mental clarity this challenge will bring. Also the resurgence of autonomy, and the return of my power.
Before I left Brooklyn that day to come here and recuperate I had a lightbulb moment and shared it with my friend and she responded to me that we were going to “get my power back”. Part of that reestablishment of power was me relying on other people to support me. Right now, I’ve got to support myself.