💌metamorphosis, part 3💌

it’s getting easier and normal to feel comfortable.

Every year, around Nowruz, my true new year, I commit to writing about change. I envision the manifestations of metamorphosis I’ve encountered over the past year and share what I welcome in as the spring equinox blooms. This year, as the new year approached, I faced a rather dramatic change– quitting my job, my anchor of income and stability. Through this process, I learned change is quite an emotional experience, in ways I didn’t expect, in ways I’ve self-punished and repressed. 

As I contemplated quitting over the last six months, at first I couldn’t talk about the subject without bursting into tears. Among family, friends, and anyone else. Even among my friendly bosses, though wildly inappropriate, I would immediately start crying as I tried to articulate how I was feeling. While I initially didn’t understand why my body constantly chose this method of expression, I realized I wasn’t allowing myself to experience these feelings otherwise. I felt stupid and small for crying over a desk job. I always try to play it cool, seem “tough” (which I am! suppressing feelings isn’t tough!), or believe apathetic dispositions are the desirable path. I think our world encourages this idea to play the apathy game, but my body naturally disagreed and wouldn’t let it go. 

As I dug deeper, I thought about other moments in life of significant change, and how my body responded. Leaving my New York life during the first Covid outbreak in 2020, moving out of my dorm room full of best friends and life long memories, leaving family trips knowing I won’t see cousins and relatives for years. All of these moments made me cry. Against my will and desires, my body forced me to acknowledge the emotional nature of change. I would get angry at myself for this. So, so angry. But I’m trying to change this outlook. I’m learning to be grateful my body understands what I need, even better than my “logic” does. My tears are shed to regulate, to soothe, and to experience the present, not to signal weakness or deficiencies. Once I accepted them, they weren’t as aggressively trying to grab my attention.

So, once my decision was made to quit, and I put in my two weeks, I started feeling like myself in ways I’ve forgotten. A new air of possibility arose, rather than solely fears of the unknown. I feel like a child again, sifting through possible futures for myself, imagining my dream life again. These dreams change everyday, but they’re all more titillating than the 9-5 sludge I was stuck in. Yes, the practicality of reality also sets in, as a comfortable paycheck is gone for the foreseeable future, but for now I can live with that. This old position provided comfort, routine, and familiarity. It provided basic necessities like healthcare and sick days that we flaunt as luxuries. Deciding to leave even when these basic needs were met scared me, because what was waiting on the other side is so unfamiliar. I’m unemployed for the first time in years. I’m balancing finding my next move, and trusting that I’m capable enough to figure it out.

Kurdish Nowruz celebrations, from @middleeastimages

Plus, most importantly, I am not alone. I have to remind myself of this like fifty times a day, but it’s getting easier and normal to feel comfortable. I accept my feelings, like everything, fluctuate and flow. I am a different person everyday and have the power to choose love and community. Such abundant, loving support, care, and resources flourish all around me from loved ones genuinely cheering me on. I was nervous to tell my family I was quitting, fearing disappointment and judgment, but their immediate support and encouragement is what truly led me to believe I can do it. Projection pointed the blame at others having negative reactions, when intrusive thinking was the real culprit, trying to keep me down. My boyfriend was there by my side every step of the way, in ways I will remember forever. It’s so easy to feel alone and isolated when years of mental patterns convince us of such thoughts, but I choose to tether to the reality of the loving kindness both within me and around me everyday. 

My new year's resolutions were committing to service, artistic exploration, and wellness in whatever ways they manifest. I know I’m headed in the right direction, and slowly moving closer towards my dreams and divinity everyday. Fariha Róisín writes, “For me, the page is the place where I go to understand myself and to express myself.” As I write, I too move closer to my purpose. This much I know to be true.