life comes at ya fastttt
ya know, a phrase i’ve always leaned towards in accuracy and relatability that has defined multiple eras of my life, is this: “life comes at ya fast”.
the first time i heard this was back in 2019, when an old friend and i would jokingly say it to each other among the teen anguish. especially in situations where i thought my life was so going to be over.
did it ever actually end?
no.
did it feel like it would half the time?
yes.
i don’t think we truly understood the capacity and depth of the phrase at that age- well at least not fully. growing up fast had burdened us a fair amount, along with our own personal struggles.
but that’s life, right?
say it with me: life comes at you fast.
throughout the years, the phrase always crosses mind in seasons of change.
through every move.
through every friend break up.
every job change.
every crush, every talking stage that dies.
life truly does move swiftly.
and, looking back, i have to give her some credit. there isn’t really a better way to describe this phenomenon.
this era of my life has moved so quickly!! at least life stays consistent.
right? right.
i feel like since last july my life has been evolving in ways that are easy to get overwhelmed with and hard to understand.
i’ve gained so much, but on the opposite side of the coin, mourned the same amount if not more.
i’ve lost family.
lost friends.
left jobs.
moved apartments.
deleted numbers.
decided to stay in a state that i hated for a while.
learned to love it again.
pushed dreams and expectations back into the void of possibility.
i yearned for my hometown, but had to come to some hard conclusions. more specifically about the reality of salt lake city- and even more so my place in it these days.
the decision to stay put in texas for another year was the hardest choice i’ve made in a long time. buti ultimately, what was i running to?? i guess i just wanted to run away.
it’s true what they say about doors opening and closing. for every person, space or thing that i’ve lost, i’ve gained better and more fitting things in return.
and even though i’m an optimist most of the time, i think it’s only honest for me to confront that some doors open so wide. and others slam shut. and they’re locked. with no key.
i don’t think eighteen year old me could ever truly understand the feeling of that until she experienced it first hand. the happiness, and then the intense mourning that followed.
missing your old roommates dog.
the mourning of lost love.
the mourning of who or how you used to be.
the mourning of lost family.
the mourning of your friends deteriorating right before your eyes.
looking in the mirror and realizing that you’re pushing twenty-five now, not twenty (which feels like yesterday).
like what the hell?
but, once again,
life comes at you fast.
did i ever anticipate being 24, in texas somehow, and living life the way i do now?
honest to god, no. not for this long at least.
nobody understands the pain of wearing my utah jazz sweatshirt around a bunch of houston rockets fans.
growing up with my religious background, i feel like every year i have to remind myself that i’m out of it. that one day things aren't going to revert back.
i have to be sure in pressing forward. it's the oddest feeling having to piece your life together together with a whole realm of new unexpected out comes.
i remember growing up being grateful that i didn't have to "deal with" addition, drug use or sexually encounters.
now, come to think of it, i've come to realize that those things you encounter in some shape of form in every day life. whether you participate, over use, or watch friends lose themselves to it and feel frustration in those relationships.
there's just no expiration date.
when i started drinking at 21 after leaving mormonism, i had no idea what i was signing up for. all i knew is that the world was wide, and i had just gotten a taste of what was opposing to my standards for so long.
and it felt so freeing.
it’ll be at my wedding.
at birthday parties.
when i have kids.
nights out.
retirement parties.
and for everyone else who was raised with it, it's so normal!
but the way i was raised, it somehow still felt and can feel wrong.
the idea of a wedding and future family-centric events suddenly seemed less exciting and more of a dread unfortunately.
i already knew my grandparents are disappointed that i drink and they would most likely not appreciate being at a wedding with an open bar.
they already are disappointed that i won't have a temple wedding.
nothing but my parent's perfect version of ”sobriety" or something linear would be satisfactory.
it's so hard balancing the human experience when i feel like i'm being pit against perfection.
especially with standards as old as time it seems. and i can't even blame them, because i once placed myself on the same pedestal looking down at others.
i know exactly how they think.
it's an intricate balance in my brain that walks the right rope of bitterness and empathy. and by no means is every person in the church like this, but many are.
and recently, i feel that i finally registered that it would come in waves with each phase of life.
the way i date and handle intimacy.
when i move in with a boyfriend.
when i have an engagement party
my bridal shower. my bach trip.
my wedding. my honeymoon.
my social media presence.
the way i raise my kids. their birthday parties.
who i surround my kids with and how THEIR actions will influence MY family.
figuring out what value and standards i would instill in my kids by choice.
it never ends. and i've come to accept that, it never will.
i do believe that i will find a lot of healing through marriage and being a mom and a wife.
but from the cliff i've scaled away from all the hurt, the jump into domesticated life seems scary.
all these feelings i have feel so isolating being out of state with nobody who understands what i came from and my family dynamics.
sometimes i find that refreshing. but i typically find it terrifying.
after all the bad dates, hook ups, short lived romances, and heartbreak, i do still have a little bit of hope that there's a man out here who would ride it out.
that would care enough to hear me out. and working through it all, it's easy for my mind to fall back into old mindsets and standards.
but the right guy would listen and hear me out at least. i've been grateful enough to have friends who support me with the same grace. i have to remind myself that i’m still young, and that 4/5ths of my life span were in that space and mindset. which is surprisingly hard.
it's gong to take time and grace. it's also going to take love and understanding, from those who get it, and there will always be those who don't care TO get it. and that's okay too.
i always believe in giving credit where credit is due, and i do owe the church a lot of it. i would not carry myself the same way with the same values if i had not been introduced to life in much a peculiar and finicky way.
because at the end of the day, that's how i have to view it to make it through it.but also to survive and evolve. i have to tell myself that:
i left the church and that's okay.
i’m still feeling that loss and pain, which is also okay.
it's all valid. more than valid actually.
i remind myself that leaving that life style was difficult because it was my life. and leaving happened slowly. leaving all i’ve known was one of the few moments that did not happen so swiftly.
sometimes things come about in a round about way. at such a pace that rips you apart piece by piece. to the point of feeling your soul crack and your ligaments snap.
but, in those moments, you have a choice, let it tear you apart- or piece yourself back together.
and this is one of those eras- where i have had to consciously choose to patch up my hurt and open my heart again.
it’s truly one of the hardest and bravest things you can do. people are and always have been inherently perfect, it’s how we operate! and hurt people sometimes cause more damage than good.
but cycles can break.
the sun always rises after it sets. you get what you give, and you lose what is meant to be lost.
whether it’s letting go of old love. (for real this time)
coming to an understanding of who old friends are currently instead of who you used to know.
old coworkers, friends or roommates that only think of you in the past tense.
family members that are more human than you thought.
confidantes you used to hold so highly in your mind.
old bosses that broke you down.
the people that assume without even trying to understand.
i so wish i could go back and hug myself when i was nineteen and contemplating leaving. or any of you if you've experienced the same thing. it's so taboo and isolating.
and thank you to those who supported me through that time with no judgement (,:
(especially the otis family, i miss you guys all the time!)
if you relate, you're so loved! it's okay!
i recently moved again, and it has me contemplating a lot about life. who i am, where i come from, and where i’m going. in such a hectic time, i have felt so much emotion i'm surprised i didn't explode.
when you move somewhere new, you take your time unpacking your things. you do it at your leisure. and i think i'm at the stage in texas where i'm ready to unpack more.
it can be overwhelming, but then i remind myself-
life comes at you fast, and it’s impossible to keep up completely.
but if you keep going, growing and moving forward, it can be a beautiful blur.
and sometimes that includes looking back and letting go.
i love you! miss most of ya!
xoxo, kara
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