On Resisting
About half a year ago, I moved from Los Angeles, California to Charlottesville, Virginia.
I graduated that spring and walked with all my friends. We day drank to celebrate and soaked up the Santa Cruz sun in backyards overgrown with weeds. We felt light -- the shackles of responsibility broken and our hard work realized. Some of us had jobs we were eager to begin, but a lot of the group still had another year before it was their time. I felt proud to be one of the ones moving onto bigger things, but the reality of my future grew bleaker with every day.
After my last California adventures, our moving day arrived and didn’t feel real. I was numb as I stepped on the plane that flew me across the country. I was numb when we touched down -- that is, until I was exposed to the 97 degree southern summer humidity and cicada symphony. But it still didn’t feel real, and now over 6 months in, I can’t say I think it ever will.
I moved here with my family for a job. My dad got it for me at the university where he works. I don’t like to admit that because it makes me feel weak, but it's true. When they told me they were moving, they promised me a drastic life change for the better if I came along. I could get a car, I could move out, I could get a dog, this job would help me get into grad school, etc. It all sounded pretty good, so I never questioned the decision.
Until I actually had to go through with it.
The first few months were unbearable. I cried every day and lost 10 pounds I didn't need to lose. It took three months to get the job offer, and at that point, I didn’t want it anymore. I cried after accepting the offer because it just meant I was stuck here longer.
I wanted to be with my friends. I wanted to feel at home with the family I chose. I had fallen in love in college, the realest love I’ve ever felt, and it was stripped away from me so soon.
To this day, I still have no friends. I never got a dog. I didn’t move out. But that’s because these are all things that tie me to this place. I never want to be shackled down here.
I resist everything.
I stay home in my free time, I don’t try and make friends, and I don’t try to establish any sort of life here. It feels like if I try to start enjoying this new life in any way, I’ll lose motivation to change my situation. It feels like embracing the chance is accepting the things I don’t want for myself. Resisting is putting up the fight.
I wanted to view moving as a big adventure onto the next chapter of my life, but I feel like I’m in an endless limbo floating through grayness. I’m never very happy, and at this point I’ve become too accustomed to the sad. Few things interest me outside of the freedom of exploration on the internet. I like to be alone. And unfortunately, I’ve become complacent to this abysmal existence that can’t possibly be good for my mental health.
But, dear reader, if you’ve made it this far, I want you to heed my warning: don’t be like me.
Sitting alone with my thoughts for so many days has shown me that I myself am one of my life’s greatest teachers, and I’ve learned a thing or two I’d like to share with you:
Don’t push away the good things that will come with the bad just because you feel you aren’t ready to accept them. They come to you because they’re meant for you. Everything is a part of the journey you’re getting to.
Don’t resist because you’ve convinced yourself resisting keeps you motivated or gives you freedom. I’ve realized that resistance and motivation aren’t mutually exclusive. The fact that I’m not where I want to be is motivation enough.
Change is a blessing. I’ve learned more about myself in my solitude than ever before. I’ve uncovered new wants, new likes, and new passions. I’ve realized that resisting is being closed-minded. Insisting on resisting keeps you trapped in the exact spot you want to break free from.
To put this in perspective, think of those you knew earlier in your life. Think of a friend in high school, maybe an old co-worker, or a neighbor in your hometown who is still doing exactly what they were doing all those years ago. Do you envy their stagnancy?
Every curveball life throws is a chance to uncover another layer of you. You’re too smart to be the only thing standing in the way of finding yourself.
Going out of your comfort zone to a new restaurant or trying out an unusual workout class isn’t going to prove a massive roadblock in your ability to change your situation. And some advice that’s maybe more directed at myself: trying to form relationships with your coworkers isn’t going to tie you down forever.
To put it simply, there’s no reason to make yourself more miserable than you need to be.
Resisting where you are is pushing away the things that are meant for you.
When I sit with myself now, my thoughts still get heavy as they build on one another. My mind becomes an echo chamber of fear from which I can’t quite pinpoint. But I’m working on reframing that fear into more positive feelings and telling myself it’s okay to be unsure.
Resisting is a response to fear and a fight-or-flight reaction to change. I’m teaching myself that it’s a good thing to want to change. I’ll get exactly where I need to be in the end -- and if not, it’s not the end!
Morgan Harper Nichols, a poet and writer, writes,
“Finding joy in the waiting does not mean you are giving up. It is saying, ‘This right here is enough as I wait for what’s to come”.
It’s cliche, but this is a new chapter of my life whether I like it or not. I’m the only one who chooses how to write it.
And hey. It’s never as bad as it seems. I’m happy to say that my love and I still talk every day. He moved from California to Boston, and our shared experience has made us stronger than ever.