I’ve come to the conclusion that during times of transition, where you’re primed to move ahead with life, that that’s when you spend large chunks of time looking back. At least, that’s how I’ve been killing time. For the last couple of days, I’ve been mired in retrospection. None of it has been bad, but I’m feeling a little bogged down, a little slow and little sad. I’ve spent time thinking about the paths I’ve taken, including how I determined where to go to college and why I chose to move to Philly. I’ve run the list of former dates and encounters, wincing at some of the choices I’ve made. I’ve replayed scenes in my head, cringing at the apparent discomfort I displayed existing in my body.
I’ve also allowed myself to celebrate the good stuff. The friends I’ve picked and loved. The ways in which I’ve interacted with others that left them feeling better than they did before they knew me. The kindnesses I’ve shown to myself (and I speak for women in my generation on this, sometimes one of the hardest things you can do in life is treat yourself with kindness).
I hope that what I’m doing with all this is priming myself for more good experiences. I’d like to think that I’m looking back and remembering my cringe-worthy moments so that I can learn how to have less of them.
A girl can only hope.