When I left college, I was so full of dreams and hopes for the future. Twenty-two years old and the world seemed so open and beautiful. Fast forward eighteen years and I had gotten to a point where I saw life in grey, had migraines every day for over six weeks and I had no pleasure in anything but watching the same movie at bedtime every night.
I never believed in soul searching. Seemed like a cliche thing to do, I need to go find myself. More like you need to go fuck yourself. How does one not know who they are? But in my cloud of suck, migraines and Fantastic Mr. Fox, I need to find not myself but a path off of the perpetual Merry Go Round at some demented County Fair.
That is how I started to fly. That is how I started to soul search. Damn it, I am one of those flakes looking for themselves when really I was here the whole time-- bullshit. No, I really started to examine and look at what I used to really love to do-- what could I change in my life to make me feel joy-- my job. So I examined hobbies and any topic that used to hold my interest. Further, in the process, I listened to Pretty Hate Machine by Nine Inch Nails because it was the first album that I felt expressed what I was feeling at the time in my life that I heard it, it was revolutionary and it was not on the radio. It was breathtaking and I loved it. Trent's music is a little angrier than I am now but the feeling of my youth is woven in those electric drum beats.
And now, I am continuing to learn to fly on my own. I have gone back to those years before the kids, before the marriage. To see who I was before I was mom, before I was wife-- when I was just Danyel.
When Danyel could be and do whatever she put her mind to. Still in the cocoon just waiting to pull her beautiful butterfly wings out.
Now, I am back. Danyel has had a Phoenix rising moment. This time out of the cocoon, I come with so much more information, two amazing kids and a great support system helping when this butterfly is caught in a net.
I never believed in soul searching. Seemed like a cliche thing to do, I need to go find myself. More like you need to go fuck yourself. How does one not know who they are? But in my cloud of suck, migraines and Fantastic Mr. Fox, I need to find not myself but a path off of the perpetual Merry Go Round at some demented County Fair.
That is how I started to fly. That is how I started to soul search. Damn it, I am one of those flakes looking for themselves when really I was here the whole time-- bullshit. No, I really started to examine and look at what I used to really love to do-- what could I change in my life to make me feel joy-- my job. So I examined hobbies and any topic that used to hold my interest. Further, in the process, I listened to Pretty Hate Machine by Nine Inch Nails because it was the first album that I felt expressed what I was feeling at the time in my life that I heard it, it was revolutionary and it was not on the radio. It was breathtaking and I loved it. Trent's music is a little angrier than I am now but the feeling of my youth is woven in those electric drum beats.
And now, I am continuing to learn to fly on my own. I have gone back to those years before the kids, before the marriage. To see who I was before I was mom, before I was wife-- when I was just Danyel.
When Danyel could be and do whatever she put her mind to. Still in the cocoon just waiting to pull her beautiful butterfly wings out.
Now, I am back. Danyel has had a Phoenix rising moment. This time out of the cocoon, I come with so much more information, two amazing kids and a great support system helping when this butterfly is caught in a net.
