2 years ago I threw all of my possessions in a uhaul and moved back home, to flee. Twice I watched the sun rise over the dashboard as I drove straight from Boulder to Long Island. Weakened by defeat, afraid my dreams were unattainable, and craving change; home represented everything I wanted for my future – family, a reset button, and a livelihood.
1 year ago I was going on dates with anyone who liked my HowAboutWe profile, spent my evenings and weekends working for someone that under appreciated yet over paid me, re-committed myself to my dreams, and attempted to mend the broken relationship with my mother. I yearned for attention like an adolescent and searched for it in all the wrong places. I leaned on people who clearly didn’t give a damn. I longed to validate my dismissal of Boulder and leaving behind my dreams the minute it got tough.
Now I have a growing coaching business, am having my longest stint of injury-free running since 2011, and spend my time between runs with a boss that appreciates and respects me. I’ve come to terms with the fact that not all of the people I want a relationship with are going to want the same in return. And I only go on dates with 1 man, who’s genuine admiration for me being the girl across the table makes me awkwardly blush yet simultaneously glow with happiness.
I am still far from being fit enough to reach my running goals. And I work more hours for less pay. Somtimes I cry for no good reason. I am insecure and overindulge in self-ridicule. But I’m a work in progress.
You dreamed a dream and they said “pay no mind” but, oh, momma said “girl, faith ain’t for the blind.”