While making my Sunday rounds visiting family, my 16 year old niece who is here visiting my parents decided she wanted to come home with me. I had dinner plans but didn’t mind and let her tag along with me. We had dinner with my home girl and after some convincing, I let her drive us to my home from the restaurant. She just got her license and is eager to drive whenever she can. This morning when my alarm went off at 5:30, I got up, walked up the hall and peeked into my guest room to find my niece sleeping peacefully. Her bag open and in disarray, her Playstation propped up on my storage bin with the controller and remote to the tv in the bed with her. I quietly shut the door and made my way to the bathroom to start getting ready for work. Out of nowhere, I was hit with a wave of emotion. It was joy. I was happy that she was there with me. Happy that she was comfortable. Happy that she has a space that is her own when she visits. Happy that I can provide it. This may seem like a small or insignificant moment to a lot of people but it was huge for me. Let me explain why.
I’m ambitious. Like overly ambitious. Some would say I’m never satisfied (it’s me, I’m some). You know how people set goals and when they achieve those goals they feel a sense of accomplishment and relief for the completion? I don’t experience that. When I achieve my goals, I immediately think “okay, what’s next?” My goals are like to-do lists in my mind. I check them off and I move to the next task. Lately, I’ve been hyperaware of the fact that I rarely pause to celebrate or be present in moments that deserve my attention. I’m not proud of that. I turn 34 next month and as I look back over my 20’s and the beginning of my 30’s. I realize I hurried through so many moments that I should’ve taken a minute to bask in. Things like- my first time in the ocean in another country, graduation night when I got my first Masters, road trips to New Orleans with my best friends for Mardi Gras, holding my youngest niece for the first time, starting this blog!
It’s not that I don’t have fond memories of these experiences, but as opposed of the joy, excitement, happiness I felt during these times- what comes to the forefront of my mind is what was troubling me in those moments. So focused on what was going wrong, or what needed to be done, or followed up on that I couldn’t even enjoy myself completely. In retrospect- my disengagement shows up in different ways so the people I’m with- don’t even notice it. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been the “mom” friend. I always end up being the designed driver or doing my rounds at the end of the night after bar hopping with my friends to make sure everyone has a bottle of water and some Advil. Wiping makeup off with wipes and placing trash bins next to beds. I don’t mind it and my friends are hella appreciative but I’m realizing that I’m able to do this because I never turn off. I never allow myself to let go and get to the point where I’m so lit because I’m calculating what time we need to get on the road in order to make it home in time, or what edits I need to make to my resume before applying for jobs post graduation, or how the government shut down is going to impact TSA wait times and adding travel insurance to my birthday trip.
I’m sitting here cackling as I type this like damn girl…you might be neurotic lmao! Now that I’m aware of what the issue is, I’m committed to solving it. The solution feels closer when I acknowledge moments of my changed behavior so cheers to me standing in the bathroom crying because my niece chose to spend the night with me. Cheers to me being overwhelmed with joy because I feel so lucky to be able to provide a place for her. Cheers to me being intentional about basking in these moments so I won’t ever miss another one. Cheers to you doing the same!
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