Landslide

I’ve been listening to a lot of Fleetwood Mac lately, so no surprises here when I say that this post was inspired by their song ‘Landslide’.

I turned 38 a couple of weeks ago. I’m not afraid of getting older, but what I do suffer from when it comes to my birthdays is reflecting on the past and I don’t particularly like them because of this. This year was no different, and despite putting on a very brave face I found myself spending the actual day of my birthday alone and dwelling on a few things.

The fact that I was hungover and bingeing on 6 hours of a heartbreaking but equally cathartic series called Normal People (an adaptation of Sally Rooney’s acclaimed novel) likely didn’t help, but I cried more than I’ve cried since my breakup last year and as if something inside of me broke that day, I haven’t really stopped crying since.

Sidenote: I’m fine. It’s just been one (okay two) of those weeks. I get out of bed in the morning, I workout, eat, find joy and excitement in many things, chat to friends, dance alone in my flat, am extremely productive, inspired and my creativity is at an all-time high.

I learned last year was that grief isn’t linear. You don’t start at your lowest point and move up in one straight line towards the end of it. The journey is made up of many winding paths, detours and dirt roads. One day you are totally fine, and the next you’re crouched on your kitchen floor in a flood of tears because of a few song lyrics that dunked you like that huge wave which came out of nowhere.

Well, I’ve been afraid of changin’
‘Cause I’ve built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Even children get older
And I’m getting older too

I also learned over the last few months how important it is to sit with your feelings. And so I’ve sat with these over the last couple of weeks. I’ve named them, processing what’s going on and I’ve realised that I’m grieving the person who I was while I become the person who I’m meant to be.

I’m also grieving the collective “what ifs” belonging to my past, present and future.

For years I have built my life around my partners. All of my decisions have been based on them, their dreams, careers and life plans. I let them control the narrative and let them make all of the decisions. I loved every single one of them more than they loved me, and I gave them everything I had to give with my whole heart. With each of them I lost a part of myself, but with the end of each of those relationships I gained a new one.

Some may even argue that I gained more than I lost, but a loss is a loss nonetheless.

I’ve made multiple sacrifices which include my safety, relationships with my family and friends, my health, emotional well-being and my career, and they have all been for others.

Where has this gotten me? Many places. I don’t think I’d be who I am today without the amount of heartbreak, loss and sacrifice that I’ve been through, but at the end of the day I’m sitting alone at my kitchen counter late on a Wednesday night writing this and coming to terms with the fact that I’m no longer going to make decisions for someone else. Well, not for the foreseeable future anyway.

I am alone, I have nothing that I know of for sure that is keeping me here and no one is depending on me staying. To a large extent, I’m free.

My move to Bali? That’s all mine and all me. No matter what happens between now and the day that I board my flight leaving South Africa, I’m going. It’s a life-changing decision which I’ve had to make for myself and for my future alone. It trumps everything else at this point, and if I didn’t go I’d spend the rest of my life wondering what life might have been like if I had, and what opportunities I might have missed out on.

And that’s not another sacrifice I’m willing to make.

Oh, mirror in the sky
What is love?
Can the child within my heart rise above?
Can I sail through the changin’ ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?