This was one of those summers that as a teenager I would notate as being a turning point. An awakening, the beginning of the beginning. The Summer of 2018 will go down as one of those. I did the things I did not think I could. I crossed a meaningful threshold. Most importantly I stepped back into the joy of my life.
Three years ago a battery exploded in our apartment setting the course for series of challenges I was not sure I would survive. I lost most of my worldly possessions and Italian law enforcement wanted to throw us in jail for arson. Even though we were cleared of all wrongdoing in the case, it was a devastating blow to my sense of safety in small rooms and in the world at large. I was filled with fear all the time even though I jumped out of burning building and saved my life. I worked slowly to put the pieces back together. In an effort at total transparency I will tell you that after I jumped out of that window and clawed my way to safety I heard God's voice. He told me to look around and see that he had not forsaken me. It was a euphoric experience. I clung to it, hoping I would hear him speaking to me clearly again. He has not; at least not in that dramatic sort of way I hoped for after.
In the weeks and months that passed I tried to put the whole thing behind me, but the feeling that I was not safe anywhere lingered. Coming back to the U.S. was supposed to help, but there were even more unknowns here to keep me trapped in my fear. I was jumpy, skittish and a general mess. Last year an overcooked hotdog brought the fire department to our home. Hunter and I were so lathered up that the firemen insisted on coming into the house to make sure we were as fine as I said we were.
Then I started blogging regularly. Started a Meetup group to find my people. (It is thriving by the way.) Met the founders of my favorite podcast, and told them how they inspired me. They thanked me on social media. I met a Meetup platform director she loves the community I am creating. I was elected vice president of my Toastmasters club. I registered with a temp agency. My recruiter and I developed a candid relationship. She told me frankly that I am overqualified for most of the jobs in Savannah, but she can keep me busy if I am ok with assignments that are not as challenging or well paid as my previous roles. I agreed and once I let go of money and status I began to truly HEAL.
I accepted a two month temporary position at the most well known retail corporation in the world. It was basic office work, but the hours aligned with Hunter's school and karate schedule. It was also close to home and low stress. Most days I came home with enough energy to work on my special projects and spend quality time with Hunter. My days were filled with new people living in circumstances so vastly different from my own that I told them very little about myself. My days were filled with dramas tiny and large, and all the hot gourmet drinks I could drink, which wreaked havoc on my skin. I gave up trying to find a permanent position at this place. Although it is a multi-national corporation this particular location does not have a position for someone with my particular skill set. Let's leave it there.
Once I sorted through that dilemma I strapped in for the journey. I learned a lot about Savannah and the America of 2018. Juggling a full time job, a four year old, a husband in Afghanistan, and the rest of my life built my confidence back up a little bit at a time everyday. There were small indignities to be sure. Someone asked me to cut out little carboard ID cards, but I did it gracefully because I was out in the world in this place where no one knew about my past. I was just a lady in an office who wore nice clothes. I adored the anonymity. And it allowed me to shed that ash that clung so tightly to me.
I feel a bit like a virgin: shiny and new.