The Cusp

About a month ago, I was cleaning out my apartment, as I had been doing for days on end by that point. I was stuck in an endless loop of moving boxes to our storage unit, texting friends asking if they wanted anything, posting items on Facebook marketplace, and rocking in a fetal position whilst crying in the corner… (Who knew I could accumulate so much stuff after only two and a half years in this apartment? Curse my knick-knack obsession and sentimental tendencies.)

My friends, gather close, I have a secret: International moves are a lot of a work. A lot a lot a lot. But we’ll get into that more later.

Anyway, on this aforementioned day, I had come across a box of journals from the last seven years. I’ve mentioned in a previous post that I did a “Sisterhood of the Traveling Journals” thing with two of my friends where we send journals to one another detailing the last few months of our lives. We started this back in fall 2016, when we were all freshly 22, and have continued on consistently throughout our twenties. I knew when I found this box and sat down at my kitchen table that my cleaning for the night was done. I was diving headfirst into the deep end of nostalgia, baby.

What struck me about our journals was the enormous life transitions it captured. (For my friends’ privacy, I’ll only talk about my own transitions.) I read about entries where I was moving from Pittsburgh to Philadelphia in August 2017. I read about switching jobs in July 2018 and again in February 2022. I read about getting engaged, as well as the weeks leading up to my wedding. I read about starting grad school, then graduating grad school three years later.

I also read about smaller transitions such as moving apartments, moving in together with my fiancé, or joining my writer’s group for the first time back in 2018 — yet those transitions felt just as monumental.

There was something so different about me in those entries. I was able to almost see the change in who I was and now who I have grown to be.

Something that sticks with me even now was the way I used to be my own worst enemy. There was an entry where I talked about joining my writer’s group and feeling like I absolutely adored everyone there, yet I would intentionally leave our hangouts early, or skip out on fun events like bonfires or birthday parties because I felt like I’d be overstaying my welcome and everyone would grow sick of me. I was very lonely prior to joining that group, and I wanted to hide how desperately I needed them. But what was I afraid of? That they would see I loved being their friend and somehow turn me away? As if that made any sense?

Some of those entries actually made me cry. After, I shared that experience with some of my friends in the writer’s group (because — shock! — five years later they are still some of my closest friends) and they all were surprised to hear I ever felt that way. One said he’d even have conversations with others after I joined about how happy he was I joined the group and how he was worried I would one day be too busy to continue. Can you imagine if 2018 me had heard that? Perception truly is everything.

Reading those journals resonated so much with me because now I am on the cusp of a new adventure. In a few hours, I will board a red eye flight across the Atlantic Ocean and land in my new home of Manchester, England.

Two and a half weeks ago I left my job, packed my bags, said goodbye to my husband who flew over first to start his job, and arrived to my parents’ home in Pittsburgh. Since then, I’ve lived in this in-between state. Unsure what the next six (or more) months will bring, but at least I’m sure that I am done being my own worst enemy. I’m going to unabashedly let people know how much they mean to me. And when I find some place or some people I connect to, I’m going to hold on and not let go.

An Important Reminder…

One of the reasons I am heading to Manchester two weeks after my husband was so I could spend time with my family and also attend a friend’s wedding in mid-October. This past weekend, a group of friends and I rented out a cozy AirBNB and had the absolute best time celebrating love and friendship and everything in between. I met these friends back in spring 2015 when we all studied abroad in South Korea at the same time. Despite the fact that we are spread all across the United States, we are still so connected. Two years had passed since we last saw each other, but the second we were together, it was as if we were 20-years-old again, swapping stories (and drinks) and laughing far too loudly.

The wedding was gorgeous (that’s an enormous understatement) and it felt really meaningful to see these friends on the eve of my Manchester move. The last night we all stayed up until 2:30am, piled on the floor of one of the bedrooms, channeling some real sleepover vibes as we talked about everything and nothing. The kind of night where no one wants to go to sleep.

Reminiscing about how much we accomplished in Korea in four short months and how we just completely jumped into it all, no fear, felt really inspiring. I can do this. I will do this. I’m on the cusp, and I’m ready for it all to begin.

I’m ready to achieve and see and explore and experience as much as I can of Manchester and the rest of the Europe. I’m ready to channel my 20-year-old self and jump into it all, no fear.