Pathways of Life//

Let's get two things straight:

I don't hate Colorado.

Choices are hard to make.

Even though I talk a lot of smack about Colorado and I’m one of the most opinionated, picky people you'll ever meet, I am a multifaceted human being who is sometimes, but not a lot of the time, wrong. So, while I have told people that I do, indeed, hate living here, I don't, and while I'm quick to make a decision, sometimes life isn't as simple as yes or no.

What I hate about Colorado is that I have to choose to live in Colorado, that I have to choose between here and everywhere else in the world. I also hate that choosing to stay here means cutting off the potential of living a life I might regret not choosing one day.

I hate that I have to choose a way of life.

I hate having to make a choice. (Take a shot every time I use the word choice and choosing.)

Life is basically a long series of choices and making decisions, slowly narrowing down the options of life paths you can take. As I've gotten older, I've begun to realize this, which in turn makes choices and decisions into an ever more daunting, haunting task I must suffer through. It also makes some decisions harder than others, leaving me to go back and forth between the options and, in turn, look like a dumbass when I change my mind. Just like how choices and decisions impact your future, the situation and environment you're in and what you have learned by that time in your life impact how you make them.

So when you ask a child what they want to be when they grow up, most will probably say something along the lines of princess/pirate/ astronaut /veterinarian /rockstar because, one, they're young and have no concept of what a job really means and two, at that age you can truly be and do whatever you want in life, your decisions have very little impact on your life and more times than not aren't yours to make. The younger you are, the more opportunities you have, the more pathways in life you can take, and the less baggage you have keeping you from certain paths. Being eighteen is similar to being a child in that way, mostly because you might as well still be a child. Freshly out of school, free for the first time in your life to do whatever you want, legal to do most of those things. You can be anything you want to be and do anything you want to do; the world is your oyster.

You're light and new, with barely any baggage of your own doing. It's also the first time in your life that your decisions start to collect, and the pathways start to narrow. So, with each year of getting older and making more decisions, the heavier your soul gets, the fewer paths you have, and the more decisions you have to make, leaving that once wide-open world so much smaller.

This is the hardest thing for me to accept as I get older, as I was once that kid who wanted to be a princess/ writer/ fashion designer/ rockstar, and still, to this day, want to be all of those things. And while I understand that I'm young and have plenty of time to do what I want, the number of life's paths I can still take get smaller and smaller, and I understand that I can't choose nor hold onto the hopes of achieving all of them in this lifetime.

I can't live every life I want to, and I have to be okay with losing out on some.

This past March, I went back to New York. Hence my absence from the blog; we can all gather that it was an emotional time. It was the first time I'd returned since I packed up a van and moved back to Texas. It was also the first time I'd been back since I escaped the brutal, abusive relationship that forced me to leave the city, one of the decisions I made that changed the course of my life.

So, while I spent a lot of time seeing old friends and catching up, I also spent a lot of time walking, thinking about the past, specifically about the choices I made that got me into the situations that I ended up in, and the decisions I have to make to achieve a life I want to live.

The reason I bought those plane tickets in the first place was because I was flirting with the idea of moving back to New York after realizing that while there was damage done to me in the city, I was running away from myself more than anything. Within two hours of landing, I had convinced myself that I was, indeed, going to move back because even though I decided to leave, had to leave, I still love New York, and I still can't let go of the idea of closing that door in my life.

But on the last day of my visit, I was very aware of the fact that my decision to move back was not as simple as me missing New York because after walking seventy blocks and listening to a man belt awful 80's covers in Central Park, I craved the peace that Colorado offered me.

I found myself in the middle of two of my pathways; being a city girl or hiding in the mountains.

It's not only the choice of moving back to the city plaguing me; it's the choices I must make about my life in general.

For the past two years since leaving the city, I have almost entirely been living my life in a state of limbo, being open to whatever happens, simply trying to heal and figure out who I am after everything I went through while in New York. I've made big decisions, like moving to Colorado and attending college again (even if that didn't work out). But, for the most part, I've been cruising, not really closing any paths in fear of making the wrong decision and never getting the chance at a life I want.

My therapist and I argue about the concept of decisions and choices all the time; she says I have too much time on my hands, making decisions harder for me, and because I refuse to follow a path, I'm left with too many decisions to choose from. She also says this is why going to college is so important: it gives you a path to follow and keeps you from falling into the abyss. I disagree on all accounts. I think the reason most people end up unhappy in life is because they accept one pathway as the only possibility, never allowing themselves to contemplate what else is out there until most of those pathways have been closed.

We also debate what it means to narrow down your paths. My therapist called me a jack of all trades, as I've always chosen to pursue all my interests rather than just focus on one. While she'll tell me that she genuinely believes I can do whatever I want because of how good I am at mastering things, she thinks there is something to be said of being a "jack of all trades, master of none." There's truth to what she's saying; I see it, and I feel it as I sit surrounded by my many desires for different lives, having the weight of knowing I could achieve them holding me down. However, I still disagree with her. Through all of the lives I've already chosen to live, I've slowly started to see what paths I am okay with letting go of. All of these lives have taught me how to navigate the hard headspace of choosing; they've taught me that I am capable of making choices. Maybe I'm ignorant and don't understand the world, but I'd rather know that I said no to something than never see it as an option until it’s no longer one.

So, while I have to accept the fact that I have to close the door to certain paths I desire to live, I know I'm better off for having the ability to do so, and I know that it will make the decision and choosing easier in the future. But knowing all of this doesn't make me hate the process any less; it's a rude reminder that I'm no longer an eighteen-year-old girl and that there are some things in life I'll never get to do. It also reminds me that some of those life paths stopped being options the moment I chose to move to the city many years ago, just like how some will stop being options no matter if I choose to move back to New York or stay in Colorado.

A quote I think of often and I think applies to most situations in life is one by Charles Bukowski," When nobody wakes you up in the morning, and when nobody waits for you at night, and when you can do whatever you want. What do you call it, freedom or loneliness?".

Life is a series of choices; it's also a lesson in changing your perspectives. I'm fortunate that I have the ability to make decisions for myself, as that's not always the case for people; it wasn't always the case for me two years ago.

Decisions and choices like if I stay or go shouldn't feel like life sentences; when a door closes, others open up; at what point do you start viewing making decisions as burdens instead of freedom?