The Facebook On This Day feature can be quite unpleasant.
Each day, it delivers unsolicited memories to your newsfeed – and hey – sometimes they’re great. Photos of bachelorette parties and birthdays and vacations nuzzle their way back into your brain and you can celebrate those golden memories that crept just a little out of reach. Thank goodness cause I TOTALLY FORGOT I LAUGHED SO HARD THAT WINE CAME OUT OF MY NOSE ON SEPTEMBER 7, 2013!
The most genuine feelings I can muster up spill out when I think of my home. That’s when you see the truest version of Griffin come through, when I’m at my most honest, in other words …
That is when I am who I am and don’t give a s*** what you think of me.
Two years. Two years ago today, a few of my nearest and dearest friends dropped me off at the Winnipeg airport.
I remember leaving Winnipeg. I remember leaving my sense of security, of accomplishment, of success (… 26 year old success).
I remember the significant hole I created in my heart and being uncertain of what could possibly fill that hole. I didn’t know – but I what I did know was that there was a small possibility I could fill it in Toronto.
2016, you coldblooded jerk.
We had an interesting run, 2016 – you were unsympathetic, callous, merciless, relentless. You shocked me, puzzled me and pushed me around. You were traumatizing. I thought I was strong but you desperately wanted to prove me wrong.
Hey, it’s me again!
I’m turning 28 next week and am completely prepared to say goodbye to 27, the “milestone” age where I became a stranger to myself. (Seriously 2016 though) It feels odd because struggling to figure out who you are is known typically to be an adolescent struggle. Nope. I guess I can say I’ve discovered this can happen at any time in your life.
But it’s getting better, I can feel it.
If you are ever feeling a loss of identity, if you’re ever struggling to remember who you are, look for a better reflection. Go to your hometown, go to your old bedroom, go to your parents’ house. Go to your best friend’s basement where you spent forever, long ago. Go to that bar where everybody knows your name. Meet people who light up at the sight of you, who pull out unique traits and celebrate them. Immerse yourself in recognizable laughter and surround yourself with positive faces. If you do this, you will inevitably end up running into someone familiar… yourself. The best mirror to your true self is through the eyes of those who love you, unconditionally.
You may feel gone. You may be gone. But you are not gone completely. Dig up the remnants.
This is another one that I can add to the vast collection of life lessons I’m gathering – and this is one I’ve only recently learned in the past few days – however, it may be one of the biggest, most imperative ones.
It would have been useful a tad earlier, but we all learn at our own pace.
You have to save yourself. You have to. It is your responsibility as the sole proprietor of your body, your vessel, your thoughts, your heart, to reach down and pull yourself out of darkness.
Yesterday was the 2-year anniversary of my blog.
Two years. Five hundred and thirty days of turbulent life lessons and accounts of adventures I’ve faced that a younger me would gawk at and never believe to be true.
I was born an anchor, naive to that destiny
A twisted wrought masterwork of steel and weight
Screaming, and angry, and ignorant to my crucial calling
Little did I know, I was built to prevent mine, and your life raft from drifting
Fated to pull the vagabonds back to shore
Fated to remain constant and resilient in times of strife
In wild waters and fatal floods
I’ve watched the buoys glide and grin, weightless and free
Their bodies majestically lifted and placed into sunshine
And while my feet fastened tightly to the ocean floor
They danced, they sparkled, they flew
Farewells tumbled on my deaf ears, as I was always sentenced to stay
And watch allies in blood and in life disappear on the horizon
They never turned around
I was nurtured by ships of majesty and vigor
Ships that pulled a hundred times their weight
I observed, I listened, I learned
And when these titans were cloaked in storms of wrath and devastation
I remained sturdy, I remained an anchor
Anchors become weathered but stay resilient
They are born strong but they do not grow
They are reliable, they are expected
Anchors rust but they don’t cry
Forever condemned to be indestructible
I was born an anchor
Let’s talk about letting go. Let’s talk about my situation. Let’s talk about how we can apply this to your situation or any situation that needs to be relinquished.
I said I would take a break from my blog. I said this because this blog used to feel like such a treasure chest of diverse ideas and thoughts (my safe haven) and as of late, I was beginning to feel like a broken record. And kind of a fake. Not that I ever really formally categorized my blog under anything but ‘musings’, but it was starting to feel like a long-winded tragic relationship column with advice that I should have been taking myself, but wasn’t.
Don’t settle. Know what you deserve. Know your worth. Know what real love is.
I was writing these things, posting, dusting off my hands, shutting my laptop, and then instantly reverting to my toxic relationship because that’s what was comfortable for me. And because each time, I still had a glimmer of hope.
Working through some life stuff (as you do) so I’ve decided to take a little time off from blogging.
Don’t worry — not permanent!
See you all very soon with some great new entries + ideas.