september was hard. i got back from switzerland and suddenly found myself refreshingly busy at work, but also entangled in nebulous work politics that left me feeling unsure of my instincts and hesitant in my choices and – this is where things started to unravel – slow to stand up for myself. the stress and anxiety swirled, the sound of an old friend’s voice brought me to tears, and i quietly wondered what i was even doing here. it’s funny. in new york i could only handle 48 hours of feeling weird and uncomfortable before i had to do something about it. in portland? weeks, nearly a month. maybe new york really is faster than portland. maybe new york is already at capacity when it comes to weird and uncomfortable. maybe there’s no difference or reason or rulebook and life is whatever the fuck it is and sometimes things are just hard a little longer than the last time they were hard. okay. so september sucked. so what? when i was ready, i took a deep breath and trusted my instincts and wore a lot of black and put on heels and blasted beyoncé and made it abundantly clear to myself and others:
i am. i am. i am.