Writing Our Own Stories Through Age And Experience.
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“After a while you learn the subtle difference
Between holding a hand and chaining a soul.
And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning
And company doesn’t mean security.
And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts
And presents aren’t promises.
And you begin to accept your defeats with your head up
And your eyes open,
With the grace of an adult, not the grief of a child.
And you learn to build all your roads on today,
Because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans
And futures have a way of falling down in midflight.
After a while you learn that even sunshine burns
if you get too much.
So you plant your own garden and decorate your
own soul,
Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure,
That you really are strong,
That you really have worth.
And you learn and learn
With every goodbye, you learn.” ~ Veronica A. Shoffstall
Every year around my birthday, I get reflective.
It wasn’t long ago that life had made me so completely sad and disconnected. It wasn’t that long ago that I felt that my heart was sour, and so was I. The struggle was real, and it had finally gotten the best of me.
That night I fought hard. I won but when I came to, I knew the climb back up would be harder than anything I had ever tried before.
And it was. Living. Surviving. Existing.
Those things were much harder than giving up. Giving up was the easy way out, and I had never done anything the easy way, so I certainly didn’t need to start with that.
I can talk about it openly because I will never, ever, go back to where I once was. Lost. Lonely. Disappointed in myself.
So every year since then, I look back. I reflect. And I come to terms with myself once more, and truth be told, every year since that day, those terms have become more and more beautiful. Now, I know I’m not where my idealistic 15-year-old-girl self wanted me to be, but I’m not that far from it.
To be fair, my 15-year-old-girl self, the one who listened to Riot Girl music and had dreams to take over the world, hadn’t seen nor done what my soon-to-be-35-year-old self has. I’ve grown. I’ve raised my head from the insecurities from whence it came.
I’ve been reconditioned and I’ve been kicked off my pedestal — only to rebuild my inner kingdom once more. Most importantly, I’ve learned that company doesn’t mean security.
People. Experiences. Life. It all connects and merges and becomes part of the roots for our personal journeys. However, that journey is ever changing and never permanently placed in one spot.
To truly be set free, to truly know yourself and your worth, sometimes you truly have to let go. You see, I’ve never been a traditionalist. I never pictured my life to be mapped out in a conventional way. Then again, my life never gave me that luxury.
My father left when I was young, my mother worked often, and I never felt like I belonged much of anywhere except for my bedroom. I wasn’t a hermit by any means. I had friends and a social life, but I was a weird kid. I knew that. Other people knew that.
Still, I could stand on my own two feet, root for the underdog because I myself was an underdog and still be okay.
I knew I would have to work harder and be more patient than others, but living with adversity in my life made me exactly who I am… and not to rally for my own campaign, but I wish there were more people like me in the world. It might be a little nicer.
I still feel blessed every day that I have what I have and am where I am. Despite my younger self getting on me from time to time.
Recently, I went on a ladies trip with a few of my most wonderful girlfriends. It had been at least a year since I had seen some of them and even longer for the others. It was beautiful to be around my tribe again, because like all things, life had taken us in all different directions. That trip was exactly what we needed.
Sure, there were some hairy moments, but what do you expect with five strong women fumbling over a game of follow the leader? Overall, we all came out of it cherishing the precise reasons why we were all sisters in the first place.
What made me feel the greatest joy was recognizing how my friends responded to my new chapter in life. I could see their happiness, I could feel their pride, I could hear their support.
For once, I knew what I was doing was right, and all those decisions that led to that moment had been the right ones, even if the outcome wasn’t; the path I was on was the correct one.
Finally, the one person who had her shit the least together all those years seemed to have it all sorted out. It had been a long time coming, and still an evolving sentiment, but a true and thankful gesture to what has come to fruition.
I don’t have the typical life, and I’m okay with that because my life suits me just fine. My creative side is being fed, my heart is being nurtured, and my soul is allowed growth. Some may have a hard time accepting my life as it is, and I get that.
Believe me, I get that.
It took me years to come to terms with it myself, but I can best explain it as this: the unknown is always scary, but with uncertainty comes relinquishing control, and there is something both nourishing and vulnerable for the soul in that. Risks and challenges test your ability to mold and morph into any situation.
So I have been molded and morphed into just about any scenario. Some call it survival, but I call it finally living. This also means that fate is now dictating life. Not lists. Not obligations.
Fate.
And, take it from me, fate can be both very beautiful and educating. Fate can also be surprising. Some of my worst mistakes have been my most beautiful disasters.
For instance, I didn’t have the usual college experience or the standard childhood for that matter, but I wouldn’t change either because any derailment in that life wouldn’t have led me here to this one. It would had led me down a different course… with a whole new set of rules and familiar faces.
I’ve lived many lives… we all have. I’ve seen what society has killed for, died for, and slaved for, and coming to terms with That ain’t for me! was a tough pill to swallow. How could I not want the 9-5, the house, the kids, the marriage, the cookie-cutter life that society had shoved down my throat since I can remember?
The life in which I wouldn’t be good enough if I did anything else that strayed from that path.
I had a hard enough time fighting my own self-esteem, and I didn’t need society’s view making it worse. So, I stopped listening altogether. I stopped listening to society and quit school with one year left. My degree had absolutely nothing to do with my passions or what I wanted to do with my life.
My job was making me jaded and my home was no longer home, just a place where people stayed. I stopped saying I couldn’t, and I told society the same. I was the only one who was going to determine my happiness, which meant I was in charge of it.
This process wasn’t easy. In it, I lost friends and accepted my life as is. Which, in all brutal honesty, should have happened sooner. Timing, however, is everything, and I chalk this up to my just not being ready. It took turning 33 for that.
So, here I am. Living a happily non-traditional life. My life is full of love and light, and I know my woes and worries are just that. Everything will work out. I don’t have kids yet, and I’m not married, but it took me this long to find a partner to finally make those types of plans with.
I may have quit college, but I started late anyhow and at least now I’m finally studying what I love. As for my job, well, I guess now is a better time than ever to explain my fields. I work for a small psychic line and I’m a female grower. Both fell into my lap like fate manifesting opportunities.
It was only a year ago that both my partner and I had a discussion about what we wanted out of life, and here we are now, doing exactly what we said we wanted to do. Growing old has its perks. I am finally comfortable in my own skin. I am finally happy to be where I’m at. It was a long and hard journey, but worth every painstaking step.
My callous feet and wounded heart healed over time.
Letting go let me shed layers of years piled up. Negative habits, negative thoughts, and negative Nancys all had their claws deep within my veins.
Breaking free from that set me free from that, and I think my 15-year-old I’m going to take over the world self would be proud of that.
She would say, “That’s the old story. Go write a new tale. You’re the author and your veil is off. Your broken moment taught you that breaking can be beautiful and empowering. This book is still unwritten, and you’re just at the beginning. It still needs a middle and it still needs an end, and it still needs you to tell it.”
*****
Regina Kypriandes is a Colorado transplant. For 15 years, she called Gainesville, Florida home, until both the heat and scene got to her. In July of 2014, she and her partner packed up all they could into their Subaru Forester and headed west. Moving and readjusting has had its challenges, but overall it has been the best decision she has made for herself. She works as a Client Specialist for Psychic Vibes — an authentic psychic network. She is a shopkeeper for an online New Age store called Sage and Fern, and is a self-proclaimed advocate for sisterhood, wordsmith, and shutterbug. She doesn’t believe in bucket lists, instead they should be called life lists, and if she can profess anything it would be the phrase, “This too shall pass.” She lives by “Life is short, make the most of it. Try anything and everything and most importantly, follow your bliss… the things you are passionate about are not random, they are your calling.”
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