When the going gets tough…

As a girl, I used to stay up late at nights watching the silver moon through the web of branches of the pecan trees in the front yard of our house on Howard Street.

I’d stare for hours, hoping that if I watched long enough, the moon would continue to paint the night sky and the day would never come.

But the days always came.

And each morning as I watched the sunrise, I’d cry. Anxiety mixed with dread rushing through my bones. Panic would set in.

Then the realization: I’d have to start all over.

Getting ready for school was a drag during my years in the public educational system, K through 12.

Starting anything became a challenge at an early age.

Every morning, I had to reteach myself how to put on clothes, how to brush my teeth and how to walk to school.

Starting a new life in a new city is a lot like that. Relearning all the things I once knew how to do. Realizing that most of life is just a cycle of events that I have taken for granted.

Sometimes it can be overwhelming.

But acknowledging that is not what defines you. No, what defines you is how you deal with it.

A few months ago, I spent some time in Belize. We were hiking next to a river and I slipped, fell into the river and got carried away by the current. When I finally stood up, I was laughing and my bf was laughing. I just got back on the rocks and kept on walking.

Yes, it was a little disappointing that I couldn’t keep my footing, but I made the best of it.

It’s okay to register these things or to voice them. There’s no shame in openly discussing how something makes you feel.

It’s when you somehow let those things creep into your day-to-day…

This is why I love working in a newsroom. I’m constantly busy. Something always requires my attention and if I don’t think it does, it’s probably because I’m not looking hard enough.

I’ve learned that keeping myself busy is a good strategy. I write better stories. I find clarity.

I’ve never felt (KNOCK ON WOOD) completely overwhelmed by my workload, which I find reassuring because I’ve dealt with a lot as a cub reporter trying to make it in this industry.

But someone once told me that things work themselves out over time. I’m not sure if that’s true.

The good news?

I no longer cry when I see the sunrise. Ironically, I now consider myself a morning person. I’ve been known to sing out loud and talk without end to the chagrin of those who happen to be around me in the mornings.

I look forward to the day when I will be starting all over again in a newer city.  And that day is fast approaching.

 

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