I am Enough

 

Before I get to updating you on my progress this week, I wanted to take a moment to appreciate the fact that I am finally feeling myself again. I had a really difficult year last year. It took a lot out of me; not only my self worth but, worse, my sense of self. I felt lost. Unmoored. On top of everything else I was going through with very complicated and damaging family stuff, to the loss of my father (the complex grief from a complicated relationship with him was really hard for me to deal with and understand), and finding myself essentially with no place to live for a while took a lot out of me because I no longer understood where I fit in the world. In MY world, with my family. 

Family is a complicated word. I no longer describe family as being related by blood but by choice. Family is who I choose. Family is who chose me, even in my darkest moments. Those who, when I had trouble seeing myself clearly and shining my light into the world, never gave up on me and never stopped seeing ME. They continued to love me until I was able to relearn to love myself. It took effort. I am still a work in progress. But I have chosen my family wisely. I have the best people in the world in my corner. 

Today, as I was debating on how to update my progress this week, I realized that for the first time since all the shit that happened last year that all the parts I thought I lost of myself are still here. I was reminded what I am capable of. And as cheesy or cliche as it may sound, I learned to love myself again. Or maybe more completely than I had before. Because as I tried new things this week, for better or worse, I realized that I am not attached to the outcome. I love my curiosity and sense of adventure apart from any actual accomplishment. I have somehow, finally, learned to love myself intrinsically in a way that can't be taken away from me. It isn't tangible. It isn't environmental; where people can put a dent on my self worth by calling what I'm attempting weird or selfish, because I am not doing it for them. I am doing it for me. I am doing it because I found that I actually enjoy the journey. I am loving the ups and downs of trying all these new things that I kept putting off for whatever reason.

I am finally finding myself in a way that is fun and uniquely me. And although, I only recently learned I was autistic, I feel like this current journey is the best example of accepting that part of me: the randomness of skills I have chosen to pursue simply because I am excited to try them. I get to embrace parts of myself that I used to keep hidden just to try to fit in or feel more "normal" or understood. In addition to learning to embrace that aspect, I get to keep exploring the rest of my identity. I am relieved not to have to be confined to boxes or labels or binaries. I get to explore all parts of me and discard the ones that don't fit anymore and have fun learning the parts of me that still fit but maybe need a little adjusting or more understanding. So far, I have been proud of myself in this journey and the work I'm doing on myself as I see where I fit in the world all over again. 

This week has been eventful. Busy. But so much fun. I can regularly solve the Rubik's Cube now, so I attempted to learn to juggle next. Today, I was able to juggle two balls continuously twenty times without dropping either of them, which is huge progress from where I started. I have been having fun doing my daily French lessons. I'm almost done reading Courage is Calling. I story-boarded and took notes for the queer romance novel that I plan to start writing for National Novel Writing Month in November. And today, I started practicing with my sais. (Think of the weapon that Raphael, the Red Ninja Turtle, uses. Or better yet, Elektra from Daredevil!)

My proudest moment this week though, is that I have started to learn to play guitar. This is a huge moment for me for personal reasons. I had started learning over eighteen years ago from a friend. He gave me books to practice with and I would practice every night. He was so talented at playing and I was so happy to be learning from him. He also made his own guitars and we talked about how when I was good enough at playing that he would make me my own guitar. I was dedicated and wanted to earn it. But then I moved to California for several months and about halfway into my stay out there, he died of a heroin overdose. I had trouble getting excited about playing guitar again after that. I couldn't even pick one up without my entire chest hurting.

It was something I assumed I gave up. A dream that would never be realized. Then, in 2019, at TGIF/F (a queer fan convention created by a bunch of my friends) there was the most beautiful homemade guitar up for auction. It was Clexa inspired (from The 100, which I was obsessed with for so long). At first, I couldn't bring myself to bid on it no matter how much I wanted it. Not until I made the decision that if I were to ever play again without a sense of loss and sadness hanging over me, that this would be the only guitar that could do it. So I bid on it. I won it. I wanted to find joy in learning to play again rather than grief.

And for years, I was able to look at that guitar and smile. To think about what the show meant to me. What my friends and the fandom meant to me. What my recently found/chosen family meant to me. But I still couldn't bring myself to even try to play it. Until last week. I picked it up. I tuned it. I have played each day since and even though my fingers are killing me, I am finding joy in it. Excitement in it. I have found peace with it. 

My most favorite thing about this guitar, is that it says "Death is not the end." And all these years later, and with all the recent losses I had to endure that nearly shattered me, I have truly begun to believe that it's true.

Death is NOT the end. It is only the beginning. And this week has only been the beginning of my new journey, but it's a journey I am proud of. It's a journey that's all mine. But it is not one that I will have to walk alone.