Scrolling through job postings all I could think about was how I didn't want to start over again. It was the same thought I had as we walked toward the ice cream social our new apartment complex was having. I don't want to start over.
Starting over means introducing myself. Starting over means small talk. It means not being known and trying to be known. But worst of all it means that I left a place.
It means I had to say goodbyes and don't know how to keep a hold of the people I left and also reach out to new people. Inevitably, I end up sitting someplace between, not having the people I left and not having new people. It's uncomfortable but living between is something I am used to, between cultures, between worlds, between here and there, the home I left and the home I am learning to make. Again.
As I press submit on an application, I feel like I have also started a complex machine with levers and pulleys and shoots for a little metal ball to slide down that ultimately ends in the pressing of a reset button. It's one step toward starting over.
So I raise my head up and sit tall and look ahead to what I know, from the many times I have done this before, lies ahead of me. New and beautiful friendships, stories of people I have never met before, the culture of a new place, delicious foods and experiences. The road to those things may be awkward and I know I will have to sit on the side of it along the way and mourn the things I have left, but it will be okay.
When I was young I thought starting over meant I got to choose who I would be, and in some ways I do get to leave behind the things I don't need if I want to, but now I think maybe it means I just get another chance to be who I am.
What does starting over mean to you?
