Gap Years

I haven’t lived with my dad in 10 years. Nine months ago, I moved into his house. It’s a constant learning experience that I couldn’t be more grateful for. 

I originally planned to move from Tallahassee to New York and continue to hustle until I figured out my next steps. And then I experienced a few traumatic events towards the end of my academic career, making that no longer an option for me. I drained my savings and I had to pivot. I moved in with my father and step mother, I started waitressing to pay off my debt, and attempted to throw darts at the job board hoping something stuck. Nothing long term has, but in the process I’ve grown to love this period of limbo.

In this political and economic state of media influences, it is incredibly easy to get sucked into the habits of comparison and measuring of inadequacy with life circumstance. For months I thought I was doing poorly; my college cohort were getting jobs, starting their careers, continuing into their master’s programs, and I, a grad school dropout, couldn’t even find something consistent enough to offer healthcare. Sitting in my room, confronted with feelings of failure, I struggled to be optimistic. Fortunately, I had the gift of flight; sitting on standby for open airline seats and exposing myself to new surroundings on my own terms and at my own pace.

Over the course of this gap year, I’ve had the opportunity to get my hair braided in Paris, walk through Prince’s house and visit BLM memorials in Minnesota, see an NBA game in Chicago, visit New York (twice), see my family in Miami, watch the guards change in London, enter Van Gogh’s mind in Amsterdam and see the northern lights in Norway (a lifelong dream). I’ve been living as much like a local, as a tourist can. Spending time in these places, navigating visas and public transportation, I’ve grown to love who I become when I’m away.  

My goal in life has always been to be happy. I suffered horribly growing up with loneliness, bullying, and mood swings, always knowing I’d be leaving my environment for a new town and new set of friends. I rarely had the autonomy to choose who I became. I gravitated toward the internet and found a digital space of comfort and exploration. I found pockets of happy but I craved to have that feeling long term. Moving into my parent’s house, I finally learned not just what I like and what I don’t, but what brings me fulfillment. I was forced to slow down and look at my life, take an audit and assess what type of person I desire to grow into. For the first time in life, I’ve felt peace and playful without strings attached. Coming to terms with my journey looking different than I imagined was difficult and incredibly needed. 

I’ve been contemplating returning to school eventually, for a major that I know but don’t even think exists yet. Until then, I’m continuing this chapter as an explorer instead of a conquerer. I am getting to know my father's quirks and habits I unknowingly inherited, his favorite foods and music artists, meeting his friends and learning who he is as a person. Learning about a side of my ancestry and myself, I never thought I'd get answers to; I have no regrets. To anyone who’s feeling lost, I suggest you slow down and study yourself.