I went to a psychic the other day, something that I did partially for the kitschy appeal, and half out of genuine curiosity. To be honest, I was nervous she was going to tell me that my aura was poop brown and that my spirit animal was a spinster. Luckily for my sanity, neither of the aforementioned occurred.
The first thing she bestowed upon me was that I’ve had three loves, only one of which that mattered. I sat with that for a moment before I furrowed my brow and shrugged my shoulders, “You could say that,” I replied, not wanting to offer up enough information for this woman to get any idea of who I was to run with. I wanted the full psychic experience; I wanted her to use her gypsy witch powers to their fullest extent and not feed her any pertinent life experiences.
“Can I ask you a question at the risk of offending you?” she pauses, “It won’t offend you.” I confirm that I’m not easily offended and give her the green light. “Were any of your girlfriends very masculine? I’m getting an extremely masculine energy from you but I can’t pinpoint where it is coming from.” I laugh and I tell her – “Oh, that’s just me.” I think back to a few days prior when I probably weirded out our new server, who happens to be male (a rarity in our restaurant), by telling him “I’m leaving in a few weeks and I’m pretty sure they hired (you) a dude to replace me because I have an extremely masculine energy.” He looked at me quizzically like “Who is this girl and what the fuck is she talking about?”
She exhales seemingly satisfied with my answer. “You’re not a negative person, but you’re dealing with a lot of negative energy right now.” I nod and give her the indication I’d like her to go on. “You may come across as sarcastic and give people the impression that you don’t care, but in actuality – you care so much.” I keep my face blank, wanting her to go on. “You are kind and you are an honest person, but you say what you have to say. You are never malicious with your words, you know better than to use them as weapons.”
I immediately think back to High School, being bullied in the hallways and never so much as batting an eye or even opening my mouth – I hate confrontation, and have always avoided it at all costs. It’s not to say I don’t speak for myself when it’s necessary, but I don’t find it necessary often.
“You have many enemies,” I half panic and look over my shoulder expecting said enemies to be waiting and wielding weapons behind me. “But they are not like you; they talk behind your back while you talk in front or not at all,” Those bitches, I mutter in my head, not even knowing who I’m talking to.
She asks me if I want the full-spectrum, do I want her to sugarcoat things or be real? I’m almost angry she doesn’t foresee my answer in her crystal ball. “Bring it on,” I say, “The good, the bad, and the ugly.” She seems so relieved like all of a sudden she released her teeth from her tongue, and I see her visibly relax. “It’s been a hard year for you,” she laments like it’s almost hard to speak that to me. She puts her hand out and almost tears up – “It’s more than a year, I’m sorry it’s almost three…oh god, you’ve been so lost.”
I’m trying not to tear up myself, as I see the last several years of my life flash before my eyes like I’m about to meet my maker. It’s not as though I struggled through years of inherent misery but she’s right, something had shifted in me in that time and I had completely lost myself. Now the people who have been in and out of my life in the last several years would never describe me as morose, depressed, or anything of the like if prompted. They’d probably sing my praises and give you the opposite impression (did I mention the psychic told me I have no problems with self-esteem?) This is because my life mantra is this: No matter what: I’m always okay. Whether I’m in my lowest of lows of highest of highs, I am always okay. I was officially freaked out when she repeated this verbatim to me: “No matter what, you’re always okay.” I’m staring at my feet while she gives this almost too long winded speech about how my sadness is like a tic, it sucks away at me and she asks me how you get rid of a tic. I tell her you pull it off and she goes further “Well then what!?” I’m almost frustrated at this point, mostly because I am being told my truth and who likes that. “I guess you heal,” I say. She smiles smugly like she just pulled gold out of my ass. I guess she had.
She then asks me to make two wishes. One wish was specifically for me and meant to be kept to myself, the other I was to share with her. At this point I have a total love/hate relationship with this woman and I chose to tell her that I am taking a very long road trip by myself soon, and that I was very nervous. I tell her I want to know I will make it where I am going safely and in one piece. She doesn’t hesitate for a second to tell me I will arrive safely but then she furrows her brow: “Whether you move to Utah or Africa, just remember – you bring yourself. I’m not worried about you getting there, but I am worried about what happens when you get there.”
I know exactly what she means and I only half listen as she gives me some blanket statements about how no wonder I can’t work in the field right now healing others because I am so healing myself and something about how the universe is giving me what I know and not what I need. I am so fixated on what she said – “Whether you move to Utah or Africa, just remember – you bring yourself. I’m not worried about you getting there, but I am worried about what happens when you get there.”
Recently I made a radical life decision – I’ve decided to be happy. Now you may argue that being happy isn’t something tangible that you just decide to do one day, it’s not like waking up and choosing to wear a certain pair of pants over another. But for some of us – happiness doesn’t always come easy; in fact in can be a lot of work. Heck, happiness is a full-time job and who likes to work? Not this girl.
I made a choice once I decided to leave Connecticut that I wanted to do so in a more attractive fashion than I came in. When I showed up nearly two years ago, I was this shell of the person that I had been. It was almost like waking up from a bad dream in a miserable sweat and wondering where the hell you are and what is going on. Except in this scenario, I couldn’t just go back to sleep, and fall into a prettier dream where everything is resolved. I had to wake up every morning and face my reality, I had to rebuild every piece of myself and that was exhausting. In the beginning I spent a lot of time trying to make sense of how I ended up living in a state I promised myself I would never live it again – I wanted there to be some greater purpose.
At the end of the day I realize that much like the weather – there have been sunny and rainy days, mixes of the two, and every condition in between. I’ve seen snow, sleet, sunshine, and showers. It does take effort to be happy for some people – and for those who are just intrinsically happy without trying? I speak for the rest of the world when I say FUCK YOU.
It has taken a lot of effort to arrive at the place I am at now, and it is going to take a lot of continued effort to stay here and then even more to keep pressing ahead. Happiness can be a battle at times, but I would attest it’s certainly worth the fight. I am ready to move, at peace with myself and at peace with whatever the last few years of my life have been. The urgency to “make sense of it all” has all but dissipated, and while I will bring myself wherever I go – I do feel as though I am bringing the best version of myself – and while it’s mildly disappointing it took me so long to get here, I am happy to have arrived.
Here’s to the next chapter, and to living a reality I am proud of.