Oct 11th- "Hell-A"

LAX. Saying goodbye to Mr. Man was one of the hardest things I've ever done. I felt a wave of emotion; anger, regret, joy, confidence. Excited to set out on my own for awhile- scared because it's been so long since I've trusted myself. Resentful that it's taken me so long. Desperate longing for the closeness of this man who I will not touch again for six long months.


A thought came to me on the plane as I stared out of the blackened window at the glimmering shit stain that is Los Angeles far below. I have not travelled internationally by myself in seven years. Seven years! I have not picked up my passport, taken my freedom by the balls and leapt out of my comfort zone in seven long years.


How far is that statement from what I had willed my life to be when I was eighteen and first tasting freedom? In those days, I genuinely felt limited only by the multitude of possibilities out there. Which door to walk through first? Which path to choose, which adventure to take.
And now....what have I become?


I have a deep hope that being with my Frenchie again will remind me a little of the spirit of that eighteen year old girl. How was I to know then that seven years later I would be reflecting on her, wishing I could be more like her? Passionate, stubborn, filled with hope. Having the courage to choose to live only the way she felt convicted to live. Unapologetic and utterly free.


I can remember thinking at eighteen that I had so far to go, so much to learn, that the path was so blurry and unfocused.


And now I know that is the best way to have it. Unclear. Wild. Unpredictable. My life has become dull and robotic. I feel more machine than woman, working and earning and fulfilling my commitments while I squirrel away time to myself and watch my dreams slip past me year after quickening year.


No more.


Let's suppose I only get one time around the sun. Let's presume for a moment that this one life is all that is allotted to my little soul. Then I need to milk it. I need to fly...


I will not again stay on the ground for the approval or love of my family, my friends, my religion or my culture. I will not stay on the ground again for a man...



Thankfully this time I've finally found one with wet trembling wings of his own. His encouragement has led me here, to this midnight hour in the LA X airport, waiting for the plane that will carry me to Central America and whatever awaits me there.


My little wings, weak from being tucked away for so long, are opening wide to receive whatever this time holds for me. With all of my being, I want to walk in to this space with my heart open, searching for treasures in the minutes. My heart is pounding.


I am excited. I am nervous. I am alive again.