(Pictured above: Hayl, Ab and Han as children in bathing suits, eating snacks and being silly in the back of a motor boat)

Written on July 26th:

I don’t know what I thought it would feel like when I became an adult because I don’t think I ever believed I would make it here. To adulthood. And even saying that feels a little weird because I feel like a fraud for saying that I am an adult. But I am 26 years old.

I have some friends coming over for supper this weekend and I have a bottle of wine in the fridge and that feels like an adult thing to do? I think? (Does not feeling like an adult just have to do with the housing market being what it is? Do most millennials also not feel like real life adults?)

The other night I was reflecting on why I feel so free right now - so good and true as myself in the world for the first time. What is that about? It took me a while before I realized it feels like the first time I am choosing things for myself, and just for me.

It’s not that I don’t care about other people and the world at large - I definitely acquired some weird gene where I feel everything the people around me feel. That whole, “you walk into a room and immediately sense and feel all of the tension” thing? Yeah, I have that but dialed up by 100. And I have always, always been that way.

I used to be the person who didn’t make decisions for herself. I made sure to project this very strong, confident, independent version of Hannah but deep down I know I was constantly wanting someone else to tell me what the next right thing was. I didn’t trust myself because I didn’t believe I was good. I felt eternally doomed to make the ‘wrong’ decisions all the time. It sounds dramatic (and it was) but I didn’t think I had the capacity to navigate being in this world.

It took me being isolated in a house with two of my best friends for a few extremely long winter months during the pandemic to really start fleshing out who I was and what I wanted for myself separate from the world. It was true isolation and yet somehow I was simultaneously experiencing deeper connection with myself and others on a level I had never experienced before. I spent most of my time in that house being the people-pleasing, mediating, anxiety-riddled being I had always been.

But I watched as both of my housemates chose themselves over and over again. I envied their ability to draw lines and set boundaries around their own selves. I wanted someone else to waltz onto the scene to do the same for me. I had always felt like the people in my immediate vicinity didn’t seem to care about my well being as much as I cared about theirs. And to be clear, it wasn’t that life was going swimmingly for them and not so great for me - we were each dealing with our own problematic realities which were compounded by our lack of interaction with the outside world. Actually, all of our lives felt like a comedy of errors. All the time.

We had mice. In the house. Some of the outlets in the kitchen consistently blew out and we had to put certain appliances on certain outlets because if the microwave was running at the same time as the dishwasher and then you plugged in the kettle, one of us (usually Hayl) would inevitably have to crawl down to the dungeon-like basement in order to reset the breakers. There was little insulation in the house. The windows were not sealed. We got snowed in regularly and some of us were driving bus routes. We were outside shoveling snow before 6am to pick up our students on time. When we weren’t dealing with mice, we were fighting with spiders. And those are just some of the things I remember off the top of my head but I don’t need to expound more.

So the three of us are living in this wacky house during one of the wackiest times in world history and we each have our own wacky personal stuff to deal with.

That past version of myself wanted soooooooo badly to exist in harmonious environments that I would absorb whatever I could of the conflict around me in order to “fix” a situation. I was creating more tension inside myself and somehow hoping to heal everyone around me. I couldn’t hope to help anyone’s dis-ease (and also, it totally isn’t my responsibility to do so!!!! But I really thought it was!!!!!!)

I used to be really angry because I couldn’t stop feeling everything. I used to feel angry because I felt alone in my hyper-feeling state- how could everyone around me not be feeling everything too? Were they? I couldn’t understand how everyone else didn’t seem as crippled by anxiety (and depression) as I was. Eventually something had to give.

It began in little ways (walking more, writing more, drinking less coffee and more water, moisturizing) before I was able to take on some of the bigger things (going to therapy, talking to doctors and specialists about medications/supplements, having difficult conversations with friends/family, undoing some of the weird beliefs religion planted in me).

Basically I started taking care of myself and eventually I realized I can be a safe place for myself, and that is all.

So I guess when I refer to myself as an adult, that is what I mean: I have become a safe place for myself.

And me being safe for myself can inspire the people around me to be safe for themselves as well, which is sweet.

I still don’t have all of those answers carved out for myself when it comes to knowing what I want or where I am going. At least not long term. But I do have some short term answers.

One of them is to be somewhere old/new. In this new version of myself.

I’ve used this analogy recently where I see this version of Han like a little potted plant. She’s been moved and transported for so long and now all she needs is to be planted somewhere. She needs to get those roots in the earth again. There is so much growing to be done. And for the first time I’m not in a panic in my brain all the time and I can actually envision myself being grounded, being known, changing and also sometimes staying the same.

So I’m going back to the place that I never thought I would return to. It’s been 9 years since 17 year old Hannah got on a plane and flew to BC. I was a little walking ball of tension then, hoping to find people who would guide me into whatever the next version of myself was. Surprise, surprise: nobody could deliver on that desire. At least, not in the way I wanted them to. I’ve been surrounded by so many beings, so many guides. I am so grateful for all of them. I’m excited for all of the ones I haven’t met yet. But I will never ask someone else to tell me who I am or who I should be because they cannot give me those answers.

I know I am already the version of myself a younger Han hoped I would be. My child self would be so proud of the adult she became, and I love that. I think she would be proud of the ways I am.

I think she would be happy that I don’t seem like I’m in such a flurry. I’m not in a rush. I don’t need to be the lone wolf anymore.

Because this time I’m driving to BC.

And I’m not going alone.