“Like after a prairie fire…It seems like the end of the world. The earth is all scorched and black and everything green is gone. But after the burning, the soil is richer, and new things can grow. Sometimes you need to scorch everything to the ground, and start over. People are like that, too, you know. They start over. They find a way.” – Little Fires Everywhere
I scorched my earth.
Maybe you don’t know this, but about two months ago, I was struggling.
It was like I woke up in a life I didn’t recognize. I didn’t know how I got here. For a minute, it seemed nothing was familiar. Nothing felt like it was my choice. I felt like my life wasn’t mine.
While these feelings were temporary, it made me question everything. Was I happy? Why wasn’t I happy? What does happy look like for me? Do I like nursing? Do I want to still be a nurse? Did I chose the right career? Where do I feel joy? Does everyone feel this lost?
I’m going to call this my quarter life crisis.
“Like after a prairie fire…It seems like the end of the world. The earth is all scorched and black and everything green is gone.“
On the phone to my mom, in between sobs after a lengthy intense therapy session, I exclaimed, “I don’t want to be living this life by this time next year.” While that sounds dark, it doesn’t mean any more than what I said. This is not what I choose anymore.
- I do not choose working 60 hour work weeks.
- I do not choose that my children are being raised by someone other than me because of my career choices
- I do not choose to wallow in a toxic environment.
- I do not choose to maintain fake and toxic relationships.
- I do not choose to value money over time.
- I do not choose to let other people’s opinions effect my life choices.
- I choose to be a problem solver.
- I choose to look for the solution.
- I choose joy.
- I choose progress.
- I choose love for myself
- I choose whatever the hell I want.
I scorched my earth and I promised myself: My life won’t look like this a year from now in the best way possible.
After the burning, the soil is richer, and new things can grow.
People treat you exactly how you allow them to.
I won’t grow in toxic soil.
And I can’t grow in a weed patch.
And I’ve got to water myself instead of waiting for the clouds.
New things can grow. What an affirmation. If I ever got a tattoo that’s what it would say: New things can grow.
“People are like that, too, you know. They start over. They find a way.”
I can grow. I will grow. Cheers to starting over. Cheers to scorched earth.