#NerdsUnite: Meghan's Metamorphosis
<editorsnote> Nerds, meet my buddy Meghan. She came on board months ago to write for us, and then very unexpectedly had her life change. No like for reals - her first email to me was how she was in this relationship ... and how awesome it was ... like literally a week later, they broke up. She hasn't been able to write for months and is now dipping her toes back in the water. I only have one more thing left to say ... HIT IT MEGHAN!!</editorsnote>
#TalkNerdyToMeLover's Meghan Brown
Trying to change is hard.
This whole "Metamorphosis" idea came from a sense of deep dissatisfaction with my life as it stood. I didn't want to be the heartbreak girl, the writer who wasn't writing, the disorganized slob buried in dirty laundry who borrowed stuff and never gave it back. I wanted to be me, but better.
And it turns out that being better? Is hard.
Lately it feels like there are too many balls in the air. I can exercise or I can go to the store or I can work on my play. I can make a good, healthy dinner or I can send out submission packets or I can organize my closet. I've spent the last month trying to hit zero so that I can focus on moving forward... but sometimes even that seems out of reach.
Yesterday I tackled my "Nervous List", the list of tasks that I've been avoiding because they involve some element of anxiety (...usually simply because I've gone too long without doing them). I sent some overdue emails, got my car smogged, oil changed, and washed, spent a million dollars at Target buying things that I needed weeks ago. I caught up on all of my work stuff, made a concrete writing plan, went item by item through my bank balance. Then I came home and cleaned every square inch of my house. Floors, bathrooms, fridge, you name it. I washed every last dish in the sink. Spotless.
For the first time since everything changed, I felt really, really ready.
Which, of course, is when fate decided to throw a curveball.
Last night something happened that could have derailed me. Last night I had an opportunity to move backwards to something safer. Something familiar. Something that I've missed more that I knew I was capable of missing anything. Something that might have soothed the wounded part at the expense of the focused one.
And I didn't take it.
I chose the new me. The me that's struggling. The me that's striving. I chose to stay committed to the person that hasn't quite formed yet. The one who's coming. I chose to have faith that I wouldn't be where I was if it wasn't the absolute right thing. I chose to trust myself.
Which was the moment that I knew. We've been changing all this time. There's been a metamorphosis after all.