A few short years ago, I was married with a house and a yard in the suburbs. Dreams of children, tropical vacations, and black-tie events on Capitol Hill as the politician's wife filled my days.
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The belief that my words would touch and inspire others was tucked away beneath excitement over dinner parties, election nights, and being seen. The idea that I could want anything different than the white-middle-class-life I was aimed towards never even occurred to me. THIS was the American dream. THIS was what I wanted... until I didn't.
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The marriage was a mess. The home was empty and cold. The events were fake. The smiles and attention were inauthentic. The dream was not mine.
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After a 180 degree redirect, six months solo-travel, and shedding layer after layer of who I had become, I accepted where life had brought me.
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In my new life, I live in a tiny NY tenement, with no yard, no kids, and no political influence. In my new life, my vacations are more likely to be yoga and meditation retreats with bohemian powerhouses or hippy runaways. In my new life, I am fed by the creativity and energy of artists who have become my tribe. In my new life, I relinquish control over where I thought I "should" be. And I rest content and astounded by all that IS.
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Ugh. So much surrender and letting go. But I wouldn't have it any other way.