Comeback.

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I remember nothing of the conversation but the last two minutes. I sat in my car outside my friend’s house, holding the phone to my ear, to this day unsure how we got to this point in the conversation. Even if I didn’t have the note saved on my phone, I’d probably still remember the date and relative time we had this conversation. Only in hindsight do I realize why it was and is still so important.

“I know you just got to your friend’s house, so I’ll let you go. But I just want you to think about this, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’m only going to say this once, so write it down, do whatever you need. Are you ready?”

“Yeah.”

I pulled out my phone and opened up my Notes.

Concentrate.”

My fingers drummed on my keyboard, his voice echoing through the speakers of my car.

“What does it meant to push reset?” 

Pause.

“Love you, bye.” 

“Bye, love you too.”

Dial tone.

/ / /

In the months following our conversation, I knew the obvious answer to his question. I think he knew that I knew the answer, because he mentioned I should write a blog post about it at some point. Five months later, here we are.

But that statement has unconsciously followed me around during that time, and I realize that I’m only beginning to understand what that actually looks like. It’s a different world when you know the answer and when you’re actually living through the answer.

Hello again, I’m sorry I disappeared without an explanation. I took a sort of hiatus from blogging and honestly any other form of writing. I wish I could say I journaled throughout this time, coming to all of these broad revelations about myself and the world and where I’m going, but I’ve just been doing a lot of thinking. A lot of step backs and re-evaluating.

I come to small revelations about myself, but I haven’t at any point figured it all out.

But I think that’s what pushing reset means. It means being brave enough to question what I’m doing or what I think I know is true, not because I’m meant to doubt every decision I make my entire life, but because I want to be sure of myself, and who I am, and where I’m going.

I’m learning to not walk in blind acceptance.

And I think sometimes the only way you can feel certain of yourself is if you lose yourself. That’s a Biblical phrase, isn’t it? You gain the whole world and lose your soul, but if you lose yourself, you find yourself. I still find that a really contradictory statement, but maybe what it means is in order to find out who you really are, in order to have the courage to actually make that decision to reset, to try again, you have to allow yourself to be stripped.

Of.

Everything.

Friendships, relationships, hobbies, passions, location, home, comfort, emotional stability, grades. Not to say that everything has to change and you have to go from living in luxury to homelessness in order to have a sense of true self. No no no, I mean that you lose every sense of who you think you are and that’s when you realize who you really are.

Pushing reset is just the brave to actually embark on that process.

Although I didn’t make the official decision until a month after our conversation, I clearly had enough of a grasp of what pushing reset meant when I decided to leave the first college I attended last fall.

And then I enrolled in a commuter’s college.

And now I’m enrolling in another college.

By the beginning of this August, I’ll have been in three different colleges and a grade point average I’m not completely proud of. I still don’t feel steady in some friendships, and it’s not exactly like I can say freshman year has blown me out of the water with experiences.

It’s been anything but ideal. At some point I’m writing a post for my senior friends who are about to graduate high school, because I feel that sometimes we’re set up at a disadvantage. We’re conditioned to think we’re walking into the greatest years of our lives, and for some that definitely happens. But for the majority of my friends, myself included, this year hasn’t been easy and or even enjoyable at times.

It’s an adjustment. We’re learning to adult on our own, not just practicing adulting in our small suburban town with a Chickfila and Starbucks on the corner and our parents’ money falling out of our wallets. We’ve been thrown into the world, and for lack of a better word, we’re realizing that shit happens. 

In the words of Cheryl Strayed,

“The universe, I’ve learned, was never, ever kidding. It would take whatever it wanted and it would never give it back.”

And that’s okay.

Because when it does all go down, there is still grace.

There is always grace to come back and try again.

 

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