Living for Me

Four years ago my relationship with my family was strained. After I got married, my husband and I did what we were supposed to do. We picked up and moved from San Diego to a new house 7 miles away from my parents in New Jersey. We went to their house on Sundays for family dinners. I got a new job in the real estate industry. My mom was one of my clients. My husband and I tried to get pregnant. It turned into the most stressful year of my life.

One day I asked myself if I was happy, then I asked my husband if he was happy. We were happy together, but we weren’t happy with this life. We weren’t experiencing joy, so we made one step forward, and moved to DC. My husband got a new job, I stopped working in real estate. Things moved in a different direction and with forward momentum, we made an even bigger decision. We didn’t want children. We wanted to give my family what they wanted, we were living as if someone gave us “how to” on life, one that didn’t suit us.

That realization led to big change. We began to think about what we wanted, and that was the freedom to choose, the freedom to travel. When we finally bought and RV and hit the road towards the west coast, my family acted as if we abandoned them. They couldn’t wrap their heads around the idea that we loved them, despite taking this new journey. They took it personally and it killed me. I couldn’t understand why they couldn’t understand. I felt resentment, frustration, and the more I tried to convince them, the more I was met with resistance.

The first year on the road was challenging. I felt isolated, I wanted validation. But, the idol time on the road opened a lot of space for reflection. I shook hands with myself. The deeper I went into the inner work, the more peace I felt.

The bravest thing I could have done for myself is stayed the course, despite it’s disapproval. It was challenging, no doubt. I learned how to be on the road, how to disperse camp, how to live in nature, all while simultaneously carriying a heavy load of guilt and shame on my shoulders. I knew I had to let go. Distance, time, and daily meditating led to acceptance. I understood on a deep level that I could either give my family the life they wanted, or I could live the life I wanted. There was no middle ground. I tried their way and ended up miserable. What kind of life is one lived for others? Does it bring joy, or does it bring joy only to others? The truth is, their joy is their task. My joy is my task. I broke the cycle and stepped whole-heartedly into the unknown. I let go of the guilt and started living.

Years went by and my husband and I decided to head back east. My parents almost didn’t believe we were coming back, until we showed up. Not only did I show up, but I showed up as an entirely different version of myself. One that forgives them for trying to control me, one that sees their intentions came from love. The weight was lifted. The energy was lighter, which caused a shift in dynamics. Our relationship has never been better. We are a family again. They may not have changed, but I’ve changed, and by changing yourself you can change your life. I am stronger. I am more confident. I believe that letting go created space to let love back in. We may believe that our choices bring firm consequences, but sometimes you just have to dive in and have faith that it’s all going to work out exactly as it should.