The Waiting Game

I’m currently waiting for Ashley to give me a call.

When I lived in D.C., I felt like I was always waiting. Looking back, I think I was waiting for something to happen and my life to begin, rather than grabbing life by the balls like I do these days.

I had a lot of friends, but in those occasional times that I didn’t have plans on a weekend night or during the day, I was really not okay with it. It didn’t feel that way. It felt like everyone was out having fun without me. I didn’t want to go places by myself—because what if someone I knew saw me by myself? I was afraid they’d think I was a loser for being alone, but I think I was more afraid for the pang of loneliness I’d feel as I walked away, alone. I lived just blocks away from all of the amazing (free!) museums our nation’s capital has to offer, yet I didn’t take advantage of any of them.

I’d go to the mall and shop to pass the time and think of errands I could run to trick myself into being busy. I felt empty inside, because I was. Not only did I not have a hobby, but I wasn’t deriving happiness from myself. I was constantly checking my e-mail, text messages, Facebook, just waiting for someone to call, to take me out of my loneliness. I didn’t have confidence. I didn’t understand why people wanted to be my friend. I was incredibly teary all the time. (I still cry at the drop of a hat at movies, but that’s another story.) When my phone did ring or a text did come through, I was elated. When someone had to cancel on me, I was crushed again. Poor Bailey spent a lot of time trying to lick my tears.

None of this became apparent to me until after I had changed it, but I knew I needed to change it.

Shortly after my 25th birthday, I moved up north. Not to NYC. I moved in with my parents in NJ for a few months while I figured my life out. I was incredibly depressed at the time, but I remember my mom saying “This, too, shall pass.”

Really, nothing was wrong, per se. I was lucky enough that I had nothing tying me to DC and that I could move in with my parents while I figured stuff out. I saw a therapist for a few sessions, and I walked out of there smiling every time.

Shortly after that, I found a job in NYC, commuted for a few months, and then moved to the city. I was estastic that I had the opportunity for a fresh start. I didn’t have a ton of friends at first, but a few close high school and college friends lived here, so that was all I needed. 

Twenty-one months ago, I decided my life needed another change. I’d had enough of being unhappy with my appearance, and I was going to do something about it.

While it helps that I’m really happy with my appearance now, that’s not what made the difference. I’m not so much happier with myself because I’m thinner—I learned that I’m worth it. I actually love me time now. It’s not the pity party it used to be. If I don’t have plans with friends on the weekends, I start doing stuff on my own. I appreciate the little things in life. I walked Bailey this morning and smiled as I looked out at the New York Harbor and the bridges. I thought about the run I’ll go on later, I thought about the post I’m going to write about my neighborhood when I move.

And now, my life is just as full socially as I want it to be. I wish I could tell that Theodora that the happier you are, the more people will want to be around you. I appreciate that little dog that stuck by my side when I needed him, my parents, my friends that were there for me then.

So, yes, I’m waiting for Ashley to call—but I’m not waiting around. Life’s too short for that.

Life’s also too short to not enjoy a bagel—once in a while.

What are you enjoying today?

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