Lonely Inspiration

I spent the past few weeks on my new adventure to Scorpionville, adjusting to the idea of being alone. The opportunity to shoot one of my besties a text asking to grab a quick bite after work no longer appears to be an option. Unfortunately friends do not appear at the front door over night with wine in one hand and “The Notebook” in the other, ready to indulge in girls night (neither do hot cowboys with roses in hand asking to spend the night line dancing…a lady’s entitled to a good daydream).

I literally reverted to my 12-year-old self and found myself crying rivers of poor-me-I’m-friendless-in-the-desert (along with sexless in the desert). I went from a small private elementary school to a giant public Jr. High back in the day, I literally knew no one the first day of school. I ate lunch alone and cried to my mom every night. I swore I would never make friends and my life clearly was two lonely lunches away from ending. Eventually, I made friends (some of which I still talk to regularly) and from ages 12-29 I actually made 100’s of friends. The past three weeks I felt disheartened again that no one would ever want to eat lunch with me (I flashed back to me wearing a pair of jeans and a Roxy shirt in a corner alone eating a PB&J sandwich with the crust cut off). I even started to wonder if I made the wrong decision moving away from everyone I knew and loved for the past 29 years.

A conversation with a coworker though lifted my spirits, as I pouted like a 12-year-old about my loneliness and my desire to appear in social settings once again. He reminded me that three weeks did not allow enough time to make life long friends and not to worry. Him and another coworker expressed that my move alone to the unknown is not something most people seem capable of experiencing and my ability to do so showed strength.

After that conversation I now realize, like my 12-year-old self, I would eventually be ok and make new friends (I always do…people enjoy my company…just sayin’). Along with multiple pep talks from people back home, I noticed my actions began helping my ability to achieve one of my goals… to inspire people.

Inspiring people to step outside their comfort zone and pursue dreams along the way makes the 12-year-old inside of me resilient and helps me realize my dream to achieve my bigger goal of writing remains my number one purpose of traveling to the land of the cacti. The concept of inspiring people through my own life experiences could only be described as awesome and of coarse I began to make friends just like I did seventeen years ago.