A letter to 10-year-old Rebecca / / A reflection on my first year in nyc
Dear Reader,
There once was a girl who never felt like she quite fit the mold. She was too analytical for some groups, too creative for others, too “no BS” for some, and too emotionally invested for — well honestly — most. She spent plenty of time alone reading books and lots of time dreaming of a life where she could unabashedly be herself. This is the tale of how that dream came to be.
We aren’t going to start at the beginning, because, Reader, you are all too familiar with how this starts. We’re going to start with a run in the mountains. Our heroine regularly escaped to a mountainside run, where she did her best thinking and her very best listening. On one particular run, she was mad about a boy, (this was not a rare occurrence). After letting out all her frustrations through running and precisely pointed thoughts, she stopped to listen. This regular practice for R often led to ideas she knew were meant only for her. This time, the voice suggested, “maybe the reason it continues to not work for you here is that you don’t need any distractions keeping you from New York.” This landed. R had been planning a move to New York for years, and a boy is perhaps the only thing that could thwart her grand plan. This experience is the start of our story, because it was the first time any sort of spiritual guidance had suggested that New York was a divinely approved idea.
Before embarking on her new life in the big city, she had to say many goodbyes. She said goodbye to so many treasured friends, and she also said goodbye to practices and patterns that would no longer serve her in this next phase. Primary of these was a belief that she was undeserving. See, R had allowed too many negative experiences with her career, her dating, and her friends to dictate a belief that she didn’t deserve the life she wanted. This move was time to dropkick those thought patterns. She moved to New York because wanted this life experience, and she realized that life isn’t about what you do and don’t deserve. Life is more about maximizing what you can get out of it — learning to be grateful for what you can grab and quick to let go of the things that were never meant to be yours.
The move brought so much joy and so much excitement into R’s life. She felt more capable; her dreams were now even more attainable. This burst of hope and optimism was accompanied by a sense of mourning for what she had left behind (namely comfort and company). While New York had much to offer her, she did not have the same social network and locational conveniences she was used to — but our heroine was determined to make it work. She was not going to let loneliness or financial limitations keep her from making amazing things happen. She got creative with income sources, she regularly used live video chats (yes, that exists in this time — it's really going to blow your mind), and she began to build connections with new people in this new city.
After about four and a half months in this new land, R found that she could not get herself to eat. Her body was struggling to cope with all that she was putting it through, and it seemed to have found a very strong signal to let her know that this wasn’t working. All of R’s mental energy now became focused first on survival, and then on healing. She felt an immense amount of guilt. This was her fault after all. If she had only been tougher or more prepared, this life wouldn’t be so hard for her. Plenty of people had done this before, why couldn’t she? R had to overhaul a good portion of how she lived life. After some deep diving, R determined these struggles were rooted in an overall feeling of unsafety. Physical safety was not her concern; instead, R felt her dreams were at risk. She felt her artistry was at risk. She felt her ability to keep going was at risk. The level of uncertainty she regularly coped with had gradually broken down her feelings of strength; now she felt unstable, incapable, and completely confused. The most painful thoughts occurred when R remembered how hard she had been trying (in all the areas), and it still wasn’t enough. She couldn’t handle it. In an effort to replace negative thought patterns with helpful ones, R started to regularly repeat to herself, “God is here. Love is real. I am safe.” (This mantra came from R’s favorite spiritual guru, Marianne Williamson). It helped.
I mentioned that R put all her mental energy into survival and healing. Part of this process involved eating an alkaline vegan diet; this meant in addition to no meat & dairy, she said goodbye to grains, refined sugar, and her dearly beloved peanut butter. What she missed the most will come as no surprise to you, Reader — oh, how she longed to eat fried chicken again. She would regularly say to herself as she scrambled her tofu or roasted her sweet potatoes, “You will eat fried chicken again. You will do it. It’s going to happen, and it’s going to be marvelous.”
After a few months of increased and focused attention on mental, physical, and spiritual health, our heroine ordered herself fried chicken on gluten-free waffles. While watching How I Met Your Mother, she savored every bite and thought, “I don’t know if I’ve ever been this happy.” It is to this day one of her all-time favorite memories.
Life continued and R was able to travel and see her beloved friends and family members. Those trips have glorious stories for another time. R had only been back in New York for about 12 hours when she realized she couldn’t eat again. All the symptoms she had worked so hard to overcome were back as strongly as they had been in the beginning. It felt as if New York had to be the culprit, but R did not want to accept that idea. She loved this city. Escaping to Central Park, an incredibly calorie-deficient R sat and people watched. She felt too weak to do anything else. Incredibly defeated, R wondered if these symptoms were meant to be a signal to her. Maybe she wasn’t cut out for this — maybe it was time to go back. Oh, but this was just not what she wanted. Not. At. All. She finally got up the courage to text a friend for help; he was quick to respond and provide her with a prayer of healing and encouragement.
She healed again. This time it only took a few days, and R felt immensely grateful. This meant she could stay in the city she loved so much. After this miraculous and hard-earned healing, R felt immensely more confident in her ability to weather life's storms — and when you aren't afraid to take on challenges, all kinds of possibilities begin to open up: first in your mind, and then in your life.
Over time, R had found her favorite parts of the city were ideas that were difficult to describe to non-city people. She loved walking in front of a father and son as the father expressed to the son how he wanted him to be happy with his haircut and he wanted him to be able to tell his dad exactly what he wanted so he would leave feeling good about himself. She loved the smell of the Hudson River and the peace of the water. She loved that she could simply go for a walk and discover a garden, or a beautiful stoop, or a new restaurant to try. She loved that in this city she could be her whole self and people were happy to see it. She loved the frequency of times she would witness a view or an encounter and think, “I can’t believe I get to be alive to see this.”
There you have it. You might have thought this story would end with a grand realization of dreams. Instead, the magic came from the obstacle. Confidence and strength often do. If I could give you one piece of advice (or if R could, but hopefully you’ve made the connection by this point), it would be to embody the idea that when life gives you challenges, that is an opportunity to raise your level. Approach these problems with curiosity and determination and you’ll find that you always pull through. And if I could give you one piece of encouragement, it would be that you will always pull through. Every time.
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