The Opportunity

Dreams are silly but sometimes with a little help they do come true.

This is the story of how two strangers changed my life...

It was late at night on July 27, 2010. I had accidentally opened the wrong link; a link that would completely alter my life. The page opened up and there in bold print was the chance I had been looking for. It read:  2br - Waterfront Cottage/Petsit (Dec 1, 2010-March 31, 2011) (Hood Canal) I couldn’t believe my eyes. I opened the link further to get a better idea on the deal. It was what I had been waiting for. It was too late at night to do much about it but I was too excited to keep it to myself. I called one of my best friends to share the news. I told her all of the details I could find on the webpage and we gushed about how perfect an opportunity that would be. I should have been getting to bed but the phone call had only added to my excitement. So in an effort to calm myself down I typed a letter to the owners of the house begging for the opportunity. I pleaded my case and at the end of the email I signed it with “Dreams are silly but sometimes with a little help they do come true.” I sent the email the next morning and waited impatiently for a response. It was almost too good to be true and part of me didn’t expect to hear back from them or to get a letter of apology about the position already being filled. To my surprise I did receive an answer back and thankfully it was a good one. The email explained that they had not made a final decision yet and asked for more information on myself. I knew this could be my way in if only I could convince them to give me the chance. I answered back as quickly as I could and with as much heart felt sincerity that I could find. I explained some more about myself and my story. At the end I placed my cell phone number in case they wanted to call and speak with me and then thanked them for their consideration. I held my breath and crossed my fingers when I hit the send key. I didn’t know if that would help but I was sure willing to try it.  I received a new email from them the next day. They thanked me for writing back and disclosed some more information about the house and animals as well as some other details. She said that they would call me sometime and at the bottom they sent an application for me to fill out for if I remained interested. Ha! Of course I was interested! So I wasted no time in getting the application filled out and mailed off. During that time I received a call from the husband and spoke with him on more of the details. I was thrilled to be in such contact with them but I was constantly scared they would choose someone else. Not too long after the phone call, I received a new email. This one stated that they were worried about me feeling isolated in the house alone but that they had done similar things in their twenties. I responded trying to console their fears though I was a little nervous that they were starting to change their minds. My message must have worked because the next one I got back seemed a bit brighter and not so littered with worries. I was careful not to let myself get too excited throughout the whole process; I was deathly afraid that it wouldn’t work out. I waited while they went over my application and reviewed my references. It felt like an eternity but in all actuality it was only a view days. I was elated to hear back from them that the application looked good and that the lease agreement would be in the mail. I was so close to my dream come true. The last step was to sign the agreement and mail it back. I did that with joy in my heart and a smile on my face. The deal was complete. It had started July 28^th and finished by August 20^th a small amount of time considering what it meant for me. I WAS GOING TO WASHINGTON!! And no one could take it away but that didn’t stop them from trying to make it as difficult as possible...

 Mailing the agreement.

The Journey

Where there is a will there is a way… especially if you are stubborn and persistent. This is the story of my never ending effort to get to where I wanted to go…

I wanted to get back to Washington and I had numerous ideas on just how I was going to get there. I went with what would be the obvious answer first: School. I needed to get back into school so why not kill two birds with one stone. We had seen a few of the colleges in Washington; enough for me to know which ones were acceptable and which ones were not. I was quick to fill out my applications online, send my transcripts, and mail my essays. Going back to school was a great thing for me… though I wasn’t sure what exactly I would be going for… I guessed that would just have to come later. This was my first plan to get back to Washington; it would have been a great one if out of state tuition wasn’t so high. Tried as I could; I couldn’t find a way around having to get a ton of student loans and reluctantly decided that going to school might have been an obvious answer but it wasn’t the most practical. I wasn’t throwing the towel in yet though. My second plan of action was to save as much money as I could and just go. I knew this plan had some flaws in its design. Such as how would I know where I wanted to live and could I find a job that made enough money to support my staying. This plan didn’t last long. I was able to refine it into a slightly smarter version. I decided I would go to school to get a certificate in medical transcription before leaving. The certificate would help me get a steady good paying job in Washington so that I could move. The program only lasted two years but in my eyes it seemed like that would be a decade! I didn’t like the long wait but I was trying to make a smart decision. This plan may have been more mature but it too would run into some problems. Once again the factors of student loans and having to take on even more debt became a problem. I needed a way to go to school debt free and let’s face it; there was no rich person there to hand me the money to go. I began to consider something I would never had seen as an option before. I began to consider the Navy. They would pay for my school, pay me while I worked and let me travel all at the same time. It sounded like a good deal to me. My ending goal was still the same. I would save all the money that I made in the four years I served in order to go to Washington when I was finished. The longer wait was hard to get over but I couldn’t argue that this was the best option for me. So I went through the process of the health exams and other test so that the Navy could consider what jobs to offer me. I was offered plenty of intelligence jobs but not the one I wanted so, with the advice of a great recruiter, I decided to wait a month or two for more jobs to open up and them come back to sign a contract. But as the time passed I started to think that maybe not getting the job I had wanted had been a sign that I wasn’t on the right path. I have always believed that what is meant to happen will find away. I decided to give myself a little more time to consider such a big commitment. I was growing tired of waiting and my dream seemed so far away but I was determined to get there. My mother had always told me “Que sera, sera; whatever will be, will be.” It was hard to trust time to bring me what I so desperately needed but I realized there was really no other way. So I allowed my frantic hunt to slow down and give myself time to think. Backing off I could handle but I could never completely forget it. I continued to job and apartment search on Craig’s List from time to time. It was late one night and I couldn’t sleep so naturally I was playing on the internet. It had been a while since I had checked the listings on Craig’s List so I pulled the website up. I meant to click on rooms/shared but in my sleepy hast I clicked sublets/temporary. It was one of the best mistakes of my life because there in bold print was my dream come true!!

The Dream

The vacation might have been the final step in my process of shedding the old me and owning the new but it wasn’t the end of my story by any means. In fact it was the start of a new one…

I had managed numerous wants and needs of my own as well as a few short term goals. I was too afraid of any long term goals. I had never had to ask myself what it was that I wanted for my future. I had never been alone enough for that question to matter. But now I was faced with it and it was a scary question to answer. Washington took away the fear I had been feeling towards that question. I didn’t know how or when but I wanted to go back to Washington for more than a week. I wanted to be home again and to continue exploring myself there. It was the start of a beautiful dream; one that I could take pride in; one that was all my own. And so the journey began...

Washington... My hearts desire.

The Vacation

“The Dream” in the making:

The fog that had been clouding my vision was lifting and dealing with the pain was no longer an everyday chore. My life was becoming my own as I was growing into a new person. The new me realized I was living my life based on what other people thought it should be; so I started asking myself what it was that I wanted for me. It started with small things like a pair of shoes or a new dress and eventually branched out to bigger things such as a new car. I was slowly learning to make my life about me. I had never been on a real vacation, at least not one that I could remember, so I set my sights on a west coast get-a-way. I had always wanted to see the west coast as a child and could think of nothing better to give myself as one of the final steps in my healing process. In August of 2009, my grandmother and I boarded our plane Seattle bound. The first flight was short between Pensacola and Atlanta; it only lasted about an hour. We ended up missing our connection in Atlanta due to delays In Pensacola and had to be flown to Baltimore to catch the next flight to Seattle.  We landed in Baltimore around 2 a.m. and had to wait about 5 hours for our next flight. The airport was completely empty with only the noise of the loud speaker playing the security code warning. By the end of our wait we could both recite the warning word for word. It was not a fun five hour wait but the time did pass and eventually we got on our flight to Seattle. The flight was long and the seats were uncomfortable the way flights usually are. Landing in Seattle was a great feeling after a long 24 hours of being in airports. It was great until we realized that though we had made it to Seattle our bags had stayed in Atlanta. No big deal right? It’s not like I wanted to change out of the nasty clothes I had on. We were on a schedule though and it had been delayed enough so we left and the airline had to send the bags to our hotel at their own expense. Relief was not the only thing I felt once we finally got out of the airport and on our way to the Olympic Peninsula; I felt home. Home is a rare feeling for me and even though I love the town I was raised in I am not sure it has ever felt like home. I have always had a hard time feeling like I was where I belonged. But as we were driving through the hills I felt it. Despite the sleep deprivation, I felt like I was right where I was supposed to be, right when I was supposed to be there. The feeling only grew as I fell in love with Lake Crescent, the Pacific Ocean, the mountains and the rainforest. The vacation was able to give me a real life safety zone. I was able to put away any harmful memories and make all new ones. Washington was everything I needed; the last puzzle piece of the new me falling into place. A vision of the freedom I had found and a symbol of the new beginning I deserved…

The Safety Zone

The story of a hiding place that allowed me to slowly cope:

I am a “suck it up and keep going” kind of woman so it angered me that the break up took such a toll on me and that the affect lasted longer than I thought it should. I didn’t want to face the problem I just wanted it gone; but anyone with experience knows that doesn’t work well. I needed to confront the issue and deal with it in small doses but there were two problems with that. For one, at the time, I didn’t realize that was what needed to be done and two I didn’t know how to do it. I did however want to get away from it and somehow in my attempt to run away I ran right into the thing I needed most, a safety zone. I found this zone in books. I was never a reader. In high school English was the class I feared the most. If it hadn’t been for the movies of the books we were suppose to read I would not have passed the classes. Which makes my safety zone even odder, but at least it worked. The books gave me a separate world I could go to that was all my own. A place where there were no memories of first love and first heartbreak. My first real chance to quietly sort out the “real” world I was so desperately trying to hide from. I found this hiding place in a certain set of books, the name of which I will not mention. The pain that tightened my chest and made it hard to breathe would disappear when I picked up these books. I read them as often as I could and completed the series numerous times. If I wasn’t working or sleeping then I was reading. I was able to slowly come to terms with what had happened by using the books to dull the pain. I give these books the credit for calming the storm that was my life at the time and still resort back to them in times of stress. Feeling comfort and peace within their pages and at home in the pictures the words so eloquently paint. The sense of home I found in those pictures made me long to feel at home in the real world, something I hadn’t felt in many years. This longing inspired a vacation and a journey that would lead me to the home I had been searching for.

The Second Ring

The story of a life saving, every day reminder:

The second ring has been a fixture to the process I have been referring to. Its story starts at the “beginning” when I chose to give my engagement ring back to him at the end of the relationship. A stupid choice from what I have been told but at the time I was too shocked to care. He rode off into the sunset, my rings in hand, leaving me with a tall bill to pay and a useless men’s wedding band.  I was quick to find that nothing about weddings is refundable but had hopes that maybe the small fortune I had spent on his ring could be returned. I walked into Kay Jewelers with the bitter taste of his absence fresh in my mouth to return the tainted piece of jewelry. Kay’s was quick to give their condolences but not their money, of course a refund was too much to ask, though they did offer to exchange his ring for one of my choice. I didn’t figure that to be a bad deal, seeing as how his ring was of no use to me. In fact, the idea of owning a new ring made me realize it felt odd not to be wearing the other one anymore; and, if I am being honest, it was the least I deserved after all of this drama. I cheerfully picked a new ring in the color of my birthstone to be ordered and sized. It took a week or so for my new ring to be prepared as I waited impatiently to be rid of his wedding band and painful reminder. I went with excitement when the time came to make the exchange. As I put my ring on my hand and gave them his a string of thoughts entered my head: “Man that was easy… Nothing about weddings is refundable but this isn’t a half bad deal… It’s almost too easy!” And as the smile I thought had been lost began to appear on my face I was interrupted by a voice. “I am sorry but this ring (his) was purchased more than 90 days ago the time for exchanges has past. Of course you are more than welcome to buy that on if you would like.” The smile quickly faded as I handed them my shiny prize and took back the cursed symbol of love. I couldn’t afford to buy a new ring on top of all the wedding bills I was having to pay off. It seemed so unfair that he was still taking things from me long after he had walked away. But there was no reason to argue with the jewelers so I made my exit feeling the wounds he had made throb again. I continued to pine for my perfect ring as the months flew by but I did not mention it until my birthday. I don’t remember how the conversation with my co-worker/ mentor started; it must have been about what I wanted for my birthday. I told her about the story of my second ring with sadness and admitted that I still wished it could be mine. She was quick to understand my pain as well as to ask the obvious question. “Why don’t you just buy the ring for yourself?”….. My answer was simple “I shouldn’t waste that much money.” What she said next completely changed the path I was taking and put me on the one that led me to where I am today. She told me to buy the ring and before I could interrupt with an excuse as to why that was wrong she explained why. The explanation, in short, was that I should get the ring as a gift to myself, as symbol that I valued myself and as a reminder that my life was about me and making myself happy. She said you could call it your “about me” ring. Needless to say her speech had me sold on the idea. I checked the internet that night to see if the ring was still in stock but sadly it could not be found. I was sad not to find it online but wanted to believe that maybe the one I had ordered had survived Valentines Day at my local store. It was a far fetched idea but I clung to it as I drove to the jewelers. I searched the glass cases with desperation and was elated when my eyes fell upon it. Not only had it made it through the holidays, it was on sale!!! That was fate enough for me. I paid the bill and slid the ring onto my finger. It fit better than I imagined. I now slide that ring onto my finger every morning. It gives me the strength to love myself for who I am and live my life for me. It is the second ring to be on my hand and a reminder of the second chance I have at life. It is proof of a happy ending.

The Process

Everyone has a different way of dealing with tough times. This is the story of my own process to deal with the change and my steps towards the new me.

The time following the break up was brutal. Everywhere I looked was a reminder of him; every park, every restaurant, every road was a painful reminder. At night my dreams were invaded by stories of him returning and happy endings that would never happen.  Not even sleep could provide an escape. Recovering wasn’t easy, and though I tried to hide my pain, the people closest to me could tell. The first few months after the break up were filled with trying to find a new guy to help me forget about my ex fiancé, and pretending like nothing happened. I was trying to convince myself I didn’t care but my business as usual charade grew tiring quickly. I had to scale back the “happy” production by only pretending at work to keep myself from wearing out, but this meant I went crazy at home. I was now in my “time to run” stage.  I was ready to get away from anything that was a reminder of what use to be; hoping that if I could get away from the places the memories and the pain they brought would fade away. I can’t say what it looked like from the outside, but this was one of the toughest stages on the inside. I felt like I was in a hole that was way too deep and I was uselessly clawing to get out. I had no idea how to get myself out of this stage of desperation.  I stayed locked in this place for what seemed like eternity. I went to work and faked a smile, came home and crawled in bed. I had given up on getting out of the hole and decided to just live in it. Some where in all of this I found out my ex fiancé was now married to someone else; I wasn’t worth the commitment but I guess she was. This pushed me to my breaking point. I hit rock bottom. The bottom was a better feeling than the limbo of not knowing if it would get worst. It was as bad as it could get; there was nothing left to fear. Slowly from this state I began to build myself up again, piece by piece. I don’t remember exactly at what point in time my “safety zone” came along but when it did, it gave me a quiet place to hide from the sadness. I will explain exactly what the “safety zone” was at a later time; it deserves its very own post. I was still in the “hole” but this was when I started to deal with my pain and continued to build myself up. The recovery was still slow moving but at least it wasn’t at a stand still. My “safety zone” gave me the idea for a trip, so I took a vacation during this time to the state of Washington. The trip was a major turning point. It was nice to get away to somewhere new. A place where no one knew what I had been through. It was the clean slate, I’m moving on kind of feeling that I needed. Washington provided much more than expected. My heart felt light and free. I felt so peaceful and perfectly at home the entire trip. I didn’t want to leave but I promised myself I would return to this place that left me wrapped in joy.  The trip gave me hope that I would get through all of the pain and come out on the other side. I started to think of myself more, and began to realize that I was the only person that could come to my rescue. I was angry at myself for caring about this break up for so long. My anger started to change my attitude towards the pain and I began a new “war” tactic. During this time I hit a new stage. This stage could be called numerous things: the “anything you can do, I can do better”, the “yeah so what if I lied” or the “put that in your pipe and smoke it”. The list could go on for days. Here is where I did everything that I had promised my ex and myself I would never do. Such as go out and party, buy a new car, and grow my hair out. It was a rebellious stage but it was better than the black dullness. I was trying to speed my recovery by acting like a totally different person. I thought that if I could be a new person then the pain wouldn’t follow me around anymore and maybe the lost feeling would go away. Though somewhere deep inside I knew it was a doomed effort so I continued to use my safety zone to quietly process my pain. I was so busy trying to make the memories go away and so use the pain in my chest that I didn’t realize them slipping away. I can’t pin point the exact time this happened, but somewhere along the line I stopped singing sad love songs and dreaming of his return and started dreaming of going back home to  Washington. I was ready for a new start and a whole new me.  

Donating my wedding dress. 

The end. Or should I say the beginning?

 A year ago I would have titled this the end: The end of my love, the end of my life, the end of the world. But looking back now I see the truth; this was the beginning: The beginning of my life, my love and my dream.

I decided early on in life that I wanted to get married right out of college and become a mom. I dreamed of having a fairy tale romance like a high school sweetheart marriage. I had no idea what I was asking for but it wasn’t hard to find. I fell in love in high school with a young man slightly older than myself. He was mature and charming. I couldn’t resist being swept out of my dull high school books and into my fantasy world. The time flew by; graduation came and went as our feelings grew stronger. The life I had planned for myself seemed to be falling into place. But, the summer quickly gave way to the new school year, which meant I moved into my college dorm a whole 3 hours away from my heart and soul. Needless to say I was miserable and rarely allowed myself to enjoy the college experience. My time was filled with longing for my love and crying over our growing number of fights. The distance took its toll on us and the relationship came to a harsh end over thanksgiving. Devastated I called it quits at school and moved back home after only one semester. That should have been the end of him but after only four months of being home we found our way back into each others arms. From there things went very fast. Within a month I had a shiny rock on my left ring finger and was planning the winter wedding of my dreams! He was the center of my world, the sun of my universe. Every move I made was for him. I was young and in love what can I say. Time began to blur as I prepared for my I do’s. The dress was bought; the venues and photographer booked, and the custom napkins were orders. My Bridesmaids were fitted as the wedding date grew near. I called these months of planning the wedding fog; I paid little attention to anyone that was not him or anything that was not the wedding. I didn’t see it coming though now I can see the signs. He started to pull away and the arguments grew more common. I could see the ice was thin but told myself it was only stress that caused the fights. I told myself this but I lied. Just a month and a half before the wedding it all came crashing down. There would be no wedding; there was no engagement, there was nothing. He changed his mind. He left me there alone in the ashes of the only world I knew. I pretended to be ok, putting a smile on at work. Truth be told I had no idea what to do on my own.

That was the end. Or should I say the beginning.