I have moved more times than I care to count in the past twenty years. The reasons have varied but most of them share one thing in common: it was not my decision. My most recent move cross-country sort of fits into that category as it was totally unexpected due to my husband’s job moving out of state a month before I was due to give birth to our son. After weighing the pros and cons, my husband and I decided that it would be best for our family to make the transition.
It hasn’t been easy. We have boxes that still clutter the kitchen and living room. I spend most of the day halfway topless, breastfeeding, and lugging around my almost three week old son while trying to offer an ear rub to our dog who now has to compete for my attention. I eat and drink long after hunger pains and low blood sugar have set in. I am deprived of energy and sleep that is necessary to process the most basic things like remembering to have the cashier scan my Cartwheel barcode for discounts which is something that me, Frugal Franny, used to never do. So many things have changed and are changing that I feel like I am holding onto the rails of Life with half-closed eyes.
Fortunately, I am still chugging along but not without baggage. Given the nature of my mother’s irresponsible and hasty moves where she discarded things I cared about, I learned not to attach myself to material things. However, I have a nasty habit of taking emotional baggage wherever I go. No matter how uncomfortable and unhealthy it is to carry.
Seeing a therapist this year really helped me begin sorting through it. One of my first official steps was to delete a ton of numbers from my phone. Numbers of people whose faces I no longer remember, numbers of people whose face I never want to see again, numbers of people whose path will most likely never cross mine again, and numbers of people whom I refuse to continue having toxic interactions.
It feels good to take a step forward. To finally believe that I am good enough, worthy enough, to meet new people who value me just as much as I value them. I now believe that I deserve more than a delayed two-week response from so-called family members who will burden you with their mundane problems but can’t be bothered to reach out when a life life gets rough.
Although it is hard, I know that doing this will only make space for joy, peace, and positive vibes.