And so it begins...

            

Sometimes life calls for us to do things that are crazy. I’ve jumped out of a perfectly good airplane, island-hopped around the British Virgin Islands without a passport, and dyed my hair purple. Sure, many of our “crazy” choices are seemingly benign, but every now and then we do something truly crazy—like quit your job for no reason without another job offer on the table and cash out your retirement to travel around the world. This is my story of doing that truly crazy thing.

            A year ago, my (now ex) husband and I decided to get a divorce. We didn’t have a bad marriage—quite the opposite, in fact. I can even tell you that I believe him to be an amazing human and I still love him as a person very much. We didn’t have a glaringly apparent, single reason for divorce, but instead had a mound of little things that added up to looking at us both as two people who, perhaps, looked at life a little too differently to stay together. Needless to say, it’s a choice that I entered into soberly and do not regret; I only remain sad that I lost a best friend and a loving family in the process.

            Divorce is a tricky thing, you know. There’s no manual to accompany it. There’s no step-by-step guide giving you directions about “some comfortable ways to approach your former in-laws with a ‘hello’ for the first time after your divorce.” There’s no canned line for “how to tell people you don’t see regularly that ‘yes, _____ is fine, but we actually aren’t together anymore.’” Everything becomes shaded in murky grays instead of black and white; the best you can do is live each day with the inner peace that knowing that the decision you made was right and that you know everyone will be happy in the end. Also I’m an eternal optimist.

            Since then, I have spent the last year soul-searching, trying to find that part of myself that I knew was there all along—that voice that I used to let sing out loud, wildly and off-key, as a child running around barefoot in the orchard. I had dreams, then, too. Dreams of going to far-away places, learning languages and discovering the hidden secrets of life through the ancient ruins of Greece, Turkey, Egypt, Peru or Cambodia. Yes, as a child, I dreamed of going to these places. My mother had a catalogue of Smithsonian books—all hardbound books that covered the ancient wonders of the world. I’d slide my fingers across page after page adorned with King Tutankhamen’s golden sarcophagus, a Mycenaean serpent bracelet, Scythian stag belt buckles. It all seemed so other-worldly and out of reach. Yet, I knew that I had my entire life to live. How out of reach could the treasure of discovery really be? I thought: Doesn’t every person get to decide for themselves where they go, what they do, who they will become? Yes, young Jessica. They do.

            Young and innocent minds don’t imagine that they’ll someday be divorced and living on their own for the first time at the age of thirty-four with almost $100,000 worth of college debt. Instead we imagine that we’ll meet our “Prince Charming” in college, get married to him, make a dozen supremely athletic and attractive children and retire on a tropical island. These are the dreams of childhood that are unsullied by reality, yet they are already tainted by the demands of societal expectations. Indeed, being in your mid-thirties, unmarried and without children, is a strange place to find oneself. While your friends swap phones to look at children’s pictures, I can only offer the latest snapshot of my dog attempting to bite my other dog’s tail. It’s cute, but it ain’t no kid. So I understand that even though childhood dreams may seem ideal, they are truly not made of the colors I’d like to paint my present reality with—or my future.

            Not only did I find myself a divorcee a few months after separating, but I also found myself hopelessly in love with a man who I’ll lovingly call “the Unicorn.” I call him the Unicorn from a night when I made a joke about the movie Legend where Tom Cruise runs around half-naked in a fantastic loin cloth get-up, covered in glitter body paint (I love that I just wrote that sentence). I said “you can’t hunt a unicorn; it only comes to you on its own volition if you’re pure of heart.” I had been referring to him as the unicorn, me as Lili. Also he was in his mid-to-late forties, never been married and didn’t have any children or “ex” baggage. He might as well be a unicorn in the dating world.

            To be clear, I wasn’t planning on having real feelings for the Unicorn. It just happened one night when I had asked him to take me on a “fake date” where he could pretend it was a sure thing and he didn’t have to try. I wasn't ready to seriously date anyone yet, and I knew we'd just have fun because we were already friends. Seemed like a pretty fair trade for my time, and I’m a straight-shooter who likes to get to the point. To keep it to the point: we went out. Had a great time. And I fell for him.

            Over the following months, I found myself relentlessly torn in and out of adoration for this man. One minute, I’d think things were fine and looking hopeful. The next, he’d be telling me that no—he didn’t really want to be my boyfriend and no, he wasn’t really interested in a committed relationship. It was brutal. The moments we spent together were lovely. I'd feel unlike I ever had before as we slow danced in his living room to Into the Mystic. Such feelings would be short-lived, and, well, he'd disappear and say he just wanted to be friends. These periods of times left me confused and struggling to make sense of it all. I know now that this experience was to teach me how to find that love for myself within and to release remnants of codependency from past relationship experiences. When it comes to relationships, it's one of those "blessings in disguise" that we look back upon and finally understand its meaning from a higher perspective. Sometimes separation and space from a loved one allows us to find ourselves, and this is actually a gift. 
            Before I make him sound awful, I will say that I do believe this man to be one of the most beautiful, unique and truly stunning souls that you’ll ever meet. He is naturally charismatic and has a deep and loving heart. When he talks to you, he captures your full attention and makes you feel like the most important person on the planet. He’s easy to talk to, doesn’t judge, and is a natural motivator to anyone and everyone. I watched him move--dancing almost--through his life, his environment, and I was in awe of this person who seems to carry with him so much light and joy. If there ever was a man whose energy I connected with, heart and soul, it was his. If we didn't make it, I have to believe that things are working out as they should. And if you must know, I have faith in him that he will learn to see himself this way if he doesn't already--as beautiful, divine and worthy of being loved and committed to. 

            What I also know is that I found myself, for the first time in my life, understanding what it feels like to love someone unconditionally—to love someone for their flaws, their darkness, their secrets, their pain, their insecurities in spite of any pain they may have caused. For this, I am ever grateful to the Unicorn for teaching me what it means to love. On our first night out together, we talked about love. Admittedly, he told me that, from his experience, love doesn't last. It's ironic, then, that he is the person who taught me that it most certainly does. Love is real—it is the only, truly real thing in this world. And real love has no expiration date nor can it be lost.

            Not only did the Unicorn teach me about what it means to love someone unconditionally, he also taught me how to unconditionally love myself. I know it may sound counterintuitive to say this, but I learned to love myself by seeing myself through his eyes.  At first, it was shocking to see myself as he saw me, but then I realized that he was seeing me as I had always wanted to be seen by others. He saw me for my brazen honesty, my fearless (and sometimes foolish) nature, my intelligence, sense of humor and ability to be both warm-hearted and simultaneously mischievous. He allowed me to feel like I could be myself (even my drunken, silly, sometimes ridiculous self) and seeing myself through his eyes allowed me to see my true potential. In doing so, I began to unwrap a whole part of myself that I had covered up long ago.

           While this love story is a memory to be remembered, it is also now part of my past. Love and loss—albeit painful and heart-wrenching—is an essential part of life. I know this now. It is an essential part of life that leads you upon the path of self-discovery. When faced with such loss, we must look within to find inner strength and fortitude. We must carry-on each day, living as though our hearts are still beating just as wildly within our chest as they did in those moments of a first kiss, for beating hearts never stop living and they never stop loving. They become stronger and the beats become louder. Through this love, I became my full, divine feminine, goddess self. I became the Jessica that I was always meant to become, the fearless globe-trekker who decided, one day, to give up everything “normal” and reach for the greatest of heights without fear or trepidation. For that, my dear, beloved Unicorn, I thank you.

            In the shortest of explanations, I can say that this brings me to where I am now, deciding to quit my job with all securities in tow so that I may discover the other hidden parts of myself that are unraveled and waiting to be put to good use. What has led me here is the shedding of my metaphorical skin both through letting go of who I thought I was and what I thought I wanted to be. Too often we let this version of ourselves rule the heart unwittingly, without a second thought or question. We wake up each day the same way, eat the same breakfast, walk the same halls, traverse an endless cycle of routine, and by doing so, we become blinded by the safety of normalcy. What happens when we wake up and realize that the life we're living is not the life we dreamed of as a child or teenager or as young (and hopeful) adult? I'll tell you what happens: the routine becomes painful. It's like wearing a skin-tight dress two sizes too small, knowing all the while that while you may look sexy in it, others can simply feel your air of discomfort. You put on a good front. You hope for things to change. You try to fight it as hard as you can until you just have no fight left in you anymore. 
           It's true: I'm not going to fight this "calling" towards a higher purpose, however crazy or wild it may seem to the average on-looker. I've battled my own, inner demons and shadows for the better part of the last year, uncovering uncomfortable layers of myself that I thought I'd never confront simply because it seemed like a lot of work (oh, and it was!). Still, it was worth every disconcerting insight, every tear, every shaky-handed journal entry as I endured the inner dialogue of my mind, asking: "Should I just forget about this guy?" and "Why do I feel so uninspired at work these days?" and "Is there a better life out there for me? There's got to be!" And there is. And I'm going to find it. 

          If I've learned anything, it's that fear is a pervasive concept in our lives. It lurks in the shadows of our mind, right behind the bright visions that we project upon our own, personal movie screen of dreams. Why don't you follow your heart? Why don't you take that chance that you've been thinking about for months? Why don't you say "f*ck it" and do the thing that you know in your soul is the right thing for you do to even though you're afraid others will judge you? Guess what?! The people who love you--who truly love and know you--will support your wildest dreams. They'll fling open their arms, smile until it almost hurts, and give you a hug that makes you forget how to breathe for a moment. Know this: no one cares about what you do as long as you're doing what your soul is calling you to do. Seriously tho, people: eff the people who poop on your dreams. It's not up to them to decide how you live your life or how you find your happiness. And it's no one else's job to make you happy--it's yours! If that means it's time to start wearing pastels even though you're a macho dude, then sport that damn robin's egg blue polo. If it means that you'll stop wearing make-up because you don't give a shit what others think or say about you, then go for it and don't look back. If it means that you'll say "no" to a loved one who is asking for too much of your time, but you feel bad for saying no, say no! Trust me: when you love yourself enough to give yourself love, the world will love you even more. This life is not meant for suffering; this life is meant for joy. 
         Thus, I invite you to share this journey of joy with me! While I don't quite know where it will take me yet, you can bet that I’ll be honest, forthright and not hesitant to share any details—well, the details that my ninety year-old Mimi will read, mind you. And if I don't keep it somewhat "honorable," trust me: she'll let me know (PS Mimi, my dress is NOT short today!). 

I have so much love to give the world, you guys. It's time for me to give back the love that I've been blessed to have all my life. My new job, then? It's to live.