The Current Thoughts Plaguing My Mind, vol I: Moving Out & Moving On
My studio is a mess. I haven't had breakfast (which will likely be a few slices of pepperoni pizza WITH pineapple!!! that was left out overnight LOLLLL what is my life rn). I'm sitting in my underwear and a crop top on my unmade bed. My edible just kicked in. There's some chill tunes playing in the background and a breeze coming in from my patio. My dog is laying on the floor beside me, blissfully asleep after an hour of fetch. I used to dream of this life, & yet this life, in this tiny home, is coming to an end. Instead of packing my life up once again, I am going to write about everything that's been coming up for me, including the hurt I've caused others, my mother wound, growth, and healing. Sitting with discomfort isn't sexy, it isn't aesthetic, and it doesn't make for "good content". Sometimes sitting with discomfort looks exactly like this. Enjoy and thanks for being here with me in my misery.
In 12 days, I am saying goodbye to my current home and moving into a new chapter of my life.
I am only slightly scared but mostly READY.
I am also deeply reminiscent and melancholic.
Although it's been upwards to 10 years since the first time I moved out, and have lived in several different homes and lived several different lives since then, this time feels different.
I am no longer the woman I was when I first moved in, in 2024, and the 22-year-old girl I was when I first moved out compared to the 30-year-old woman I am now couldn't be any more different.
This farewell to my home also feels like a farewell to the parts of me that I'm ready to leave behind.
At 22, I had NO idea what the fuck I was doing in life and was constantly looking towards others for approval.
The one thing I did know was I needed to get away from my family, so I jumped at the first opportunity, with no real plan or solid foundation.
I moved into a studio right around the corner from my childhood home (mostly because my mother had decided that was the best apartment for me amongst other things like my career which we won't even get into today) even though I had always dreamed of leaving California.
Instead of building a savings, I spent the next year of my life in survival, but a different type of survival than I had been used to (lol, my LORE), because I had no real support system I could lean on. I had a good job, was about 3 years into my career, and from the outside, it looked like I was doing "really well" for my age, but that was not enough to prepare me for living on my own.
There were many times I had to use candles and take cold showers because I forgot to pay my gas or electric bill. There were days where my fridge was empty and I had nothing to eat because I was a baby adult with no financial literacy skills. There were also many nights I cried myself to sleep because for once I had enough distance from a place that caused me a whole lot of pain and I was just barely starting to unravel that mess.
It wasn't long until the loneliness kicked in and I fell into a deep depression.
I tried fitting into places I didn't belong, I made some very poor decisions, and faced some very real consequences. I was forced to grow up very fast, and this time it was by my own doing. I was thrown into adulthood with really no other choice, which we may get into some day, or may not, (still trying to figure out a good balance of lore and keeping a private life) and it feels like I've been trying to catch up ever since.
I didn't get to have the "typical" 20-something-year-old experience of not having my shit together. I was deep in the workforce, working 40-hour weeks, paying bills, being a total slave to capitalism, y manteniendo la casa. I would come home exhausted from work, knock out at 6p, and wake up at 6a to do it all over again.
I had no sense of self or identity, but I was "successful" and my mom was proud of that.
There's been several different roommates, homes, and jobs since then, as well as a couple partners, and a shit ton of mistakes.
There's also been a whole lot of soul searching, self-exploring, unpacking, and rewiring of my brain since then.
At 30, I still have NO idea what the fuck I'm doing in life, but like...confidently, and these days the only approval I seek, is my own.
I sit with my discomfort, listen to my intuition, and seek the guidance of my ancestors.
I gave up on trying to be the perfect daughter, sister, girlfriend, employee, etc etc etc.
I center my own comfort, prioritize my own happiness, and I let that guide me.
I am a villain in many stories, and in some probably rightfully so, but in others probably because my boundaries no longer benefit them.
I am no longer a shell of a human, but a powerhouse of a woman.
I say what's on my mind, and make decisions for myself.
& I did it all (or at least a large majority of that work) in this casita that I'm about to say goodbye to.
It was in this home where I began to process (and understand/accept) my heartbreak.
The heartbreak of being mostly estranged from my family and not having a "typical" support system.
The heartbreak of accepting the relationship (or lack thereof) with my mother.
The (self-inflicted, KINDA) heartbreak after walking away from the person I thought I was going to marry one day.
The heartbreak of acknowledging that although I've been hurt, I've also done my fair share of hurting others along the way.
One of those being my ex, and another being the first man I opened my heart to after him, earlier this year.
It was in this home where I allowed another man into my heart and created memories I'll cherish for the rest of my life, but it was also in this home where I panicked and hurt him in the process, leaving me to learn lessons that I'll look back on for the rest of my life.
It was in this home where I began to understand the patterns I was repeating subconsciously.
It was in this home where I began to understand how my unresolved childhood trauma was affecting my life, because hurt people hurt others.
I am fully aware that I am not 100% to blame for something that took two people to break, but I am 100% responsible for the harm I caused along the way.
So it was in this home where I decided that things cannot continue the same, that things MUST change because nothing changes if nothing changes.
It was in this home that I faced some uncomfortable truths about myself, began doing the shadow work, and acknowledged the past versions of me that I'm not proud of.
It was in this home that I realized I no longer need those past versions of me and although they once served a purpose, they no longer have a place in my life.
It was in this home that I decided I no longer have to carry these versions of me anymore, and so I have decided that in this home is where those versions of me will stay.
They will stay here, along with my 20's, and I leave them behind with so much gratitude.
Gratitude for the protection they gave me, gratitude for the lessons I've learned, & gratitude for this casita that has allowed me to feel, to heal, and to just be.
Ironically, healing and letting go of these past versions of me also means letting go of my family in a way because it is only through these past versions of me where I can still relate/connect to them.
These days I feel more and more like a stranger to them the more I actually meet myself, but it's through this distance that I've really been able to discover who Amy is and what kind of person she wants to be moving forward.
Not the good Christian girl my family wished I would be.
Not the good Christian wife my family thought I was going to be.
Not the good Christian mother my family hoped I would be.
Not the good Christian daughter that doesn't speak up or stand up for herself.
Not the good Christian daughter that keeps family secrets to keep the peace.
It's obviously easier said than done because what human wants to distance themselves from the people they share DNA with, but sometimes it's either that or continue repeating the same generational traumas that broke you in the first place.
I wish I had the relationship with my mom where I could call her up and she'd be supportive of the news I had to share, but that's not the case.
So I'm moving into my "big girl" apartment and I haven't shared the news with my mom yet, and quite frankly, I'm not sure that I will. I'm sure she'll figure it out eventually because I'm not trying to keep it a secret, I just don't really feel like sharing parts of my life with her anymore and that's a shit feeling that I've been trying to work through.
All this to say that this casita has been my safe space when I needed it the most, and now I'm moving into a new casita, where I will continue to evolve and continue to learn life lessons and continue to grow into the Amy that I need and into the Amy that my family will recognize less and less.
I'm not really sure that I feel much better after having sat down and writing this for the past 6 hours but that's neither here nor there at this point.
Thanks for being here with me as I navigate this silly little thing called life and reading my misery.
As always,
Take care,
Talk soon.
-T u Amiga Amy <3