Things I learned in 2022
Last year this time, I was en route to Puerto Rico, about to endure the worst verbal and emotional abuse I’ve personally been victim to. Before the trip could even begin, my (now) ex threw his duffel bag down the stairs on top of me. During the trip, text messages surfaced between him and countless women he was using to satiate his desire for non-stop affirmation, adoration, and awe. Upon our return from what I made sure appeared to be a perfectly harmonious getaway, I was abandoned by that same person, so that he could comfort a “struggling friend” – who I later learned was the same ex of his he’d cheated with months before. A month after that, I listened and watched him brag to his friends about how many women he’d connected with during that trip of ours to Puerto Rico.
Despite all of this, and more, I pressed onward in hopes of the worst being behind us.
I finally left him in July.
It felt both radical, and so mundane at the same time. I broke down holding both of my parents’ hands in a place that finally felt safe, where I could simply exist – and be loved. Actually loved. My dad choked, quietly, when he heard me recount some of the things that happened. He reassured me that his silence was anger, but not an indication of apathy. For once, it felt so good to see anger take form as something other than violence against me.
Since I ended things in July, many of you have asked what my breaking point was. It was hard to see at the time, but I believe it was the realization that even if the worst was behind me, the actions, words, and exchanges were unforgivable — and in direct violation of the implicit and explicit values I tend to operate with.
But I didn’t believe the worst was behind me: it was in front of me. Every single day. I believed it would never end.
I knew 2022 was going to be treacherous because I felt the warnings course throughout my entire body: anxiety that never quit, hypervigilance about every shift in mood/demeanor/environment I came in contact with, and a debilitating depression that I’d never sat with before.
I didn’t get to snap my fingers and erase the memories or the realities of that broken relationship and everything we’d started (and never finished) together. Instead, I began to (re)prioritize my choice, my peace, and my values in small ways that sometimes felt untraceable – looking back now, they saved my life.
New Years, my birthday, and moments of complete insignificance tend to trigger my introspection. My body remembers, but my heart is hopeful, imaginative, and getting clearer.
There are 4 things I’ve learned and latched onto in these last six months, that I’m taking with me into 2023 (and beyond):
I’m relinquishing the impulse to protect people from the natural consequences of their actions. I got really good at doing this, and I realized this skill doesn’t serve me.
I’ll choose to disappoint others before I disappoint myself. I commit to riding out the awkwardness and the discomfort that this choice will inevitably impose on me internally.
I recognize that my empathy has sometimes clouded my judgment; instead of giving my empathy decision-making power, I’ll take time and space to navigate people, and my relationships with them.
I’m committed to share what’s real: both the good, the bad, and the in between, so that no one has to second guess their own happiness (or despair) compared to mine.
So, as you watch the highlight reels inundate your feed these next few days, remember that you, my friend, are a powerhouse.
Believe this with me: your bravery doesn’t need to align with the Hallmark calendar. I left when I was ready, and I’ve chosen to leave each day since then, in my own (sometimes small) ways. Your life, your timing, your rules.
Wishing you an abundance of warmth, light, and groundedness.
Kaia
