I haven’t had a home for nearly 2 years.

That isn’t to say I’ve been homeless. I haven’t been without housing at all. I’m very thankful for that.

When I say I haven’t had a home for nearly 2 years, what I mean is that I haven’t felt at home anywhere since the day my ex left. The moment he left it stopped feeling like my home. I was living there but somehow I’d walked through a doorway into a parallel dimension.

I am now on the precipice of my third move in under 2 years. The decision to move yet again took a long time to make and a lot of heavy conversations with my son. But we made the decision together. Now, we’re packing, cleaning, trying to sell the house I bought when I moved to Iowa, and looking for a rental in Iowa City.

Once again, I am purging my belongings. Once again I’m sifting through the ashes of my marriage and deciding which artifacts to bring along with me to our new home. It’s painful for someone like me, who associates a memory with everything I own. I pick up an object and immediately my mind flashes to where it was in our old house, or I remember when we bought it. I’ve cried so much the last few weeks. I’ve been so angry. I’ve asked myself how these things made it from move to move and why I haven’t gotten rid of them before now.

But the purging, packing, cleaning process will be coming to an end soon and hopefully before I know it, I’ll be signing a lease on a new place.

It’s hard to describe how excited I am at the thought of making a home for myself. That’s not something I’ve ever really done. The home I made before was for my spouse and my children. This one will be for me.

I don’t really pray anymore. But if I had a prayer it would be for this move to happen as quickly as possible. Because I can’t wait to have a home, a place of my own, filled with the things I value and love. Filled with me.

Before I split with my ex, I had an office in our house. I’m proud to say it was almost everyone’s favorite room. I know why. Because I made it completely me. It was decorated according to my aesthetic alone. People felt comfortable there and they often remarked on how beautiful it was. I’ve been trying to imagine my entire home that way.

When I moved to Iowa, I knew the house I was moving into was just a temporary dwelling space. I didn’t bother to decorate really. It never felt like home to me. Why make an effort if you’re just planning to leave?

But, I’ve begun falling in love with Iowa City. I adore her, actually. I don’t want to make another temporary home. I’m making no plans to leave. Once I find my new place and move in, I’m settling in for quite a while. I’m making myself a home.

And that thought thrills me.

I have been doing tarot now for a few years but I really only started doing readings consistently within the last few months. I get bored working overnights a lot and when there’s nothing to do I pull out a deck and start asking questions. I’m not sure to what degree I actually buy into tarot but there have been times when the cards I get are eerily accurate. Tonight I did a reading for myself that I don’t want to forget. And since I tend to write a lot of the important things in my life here this is where it is going.

Before I get into the reading, let’s talk about this afternoon. I went to a psychic this afternoon for a reiki session. When I got there she said she didn’t believe I needed reiki. She wanted to read my energy and give me a tarot reading and see what it was I really needed. I said, “Let’s go,” and we dove in.

I met her at a Pride festival I recently attended. She was doing tarot readings and I love getting readings from strangers because it’s always interesting to see what they pick up on. Even though I am a practitioner and lover of tarot, I’m also a skeptic and approach all spiritual hippy shit with a wary eye and a grain of salt. I believe there is something out there in the ether but I don’t know what it is.

She picked up on a lot in our first meeting. Some stuff I was surprised she was able to see. But what do I know? She could have just been reading my body language. I’ve been feeling pretty overwhelmed by life for a while now and she saw that right away. In addition to doing tarot, she does reiki which is a spiritual practice that involves energy cleansing. I had a reiki session when I was in New Orleans and it was profound. It really feels like a massage for your soul. I left feeling like a different person. So, obviously when I saw that she did reiki, I wanted to make an appointment to see her.

We never did reiki while I was there. She did a lot of spiritual shit and a few tarot readings and gave me some advice. She also heavily marketed a healing package she thinks I should do. It’s $475. If I suddenly get rich, maybe I will. LOL.

Her advice wasn’t astounding or earth shattering but I needed it. She basically said I need to take some time away from other people and focus on myself and my healing. She’s not wrong.

I have been lonely for a long, long time. And I hate that feeling probably more than anything. But I think it’s probably time I got comfortable with being lonely. She told me that I won’t always be alone. She said she saw a soulmate for me out there, someone I haven’t met yet. Isn’t that what they all say? I’ll make a note of that with the most amount of side eye. No way do I trust that my soulmate is out there looking for me. LOL.

I’ve thought about what she said and the advice she gave and decided I need to take some time alone to heal. I think it’s something I desperately need. Of course, I’ll still be around and see my friends on occasion. I’m not joining a monastery. But I think I’ll definitely spend less time on social media and more time on me.

Back to the tarot reading I don’t want to forget.

Since she told me to take some “me time”, I decided to ask tarot what the rest of the summer would look like and I drew some very interesting cards.

We started off strong with the tower. That’s about change. Three of cups is about friendship. The 7 of wands is about getting my spark back. Those were my first 3 draws. A good start. There’s gonna be some upheaval in my life this summer but I’m going to get my spark back and I like that. Next we got the hermit, death, and the 7 of swords. Oof. The hermit is just more confirmation that it’s time to isolate a bit. Death is endings and new beginnings. And the 7 of swords is secrets.

I got the moon, so I need to do some soul searching. But I also got the high priestess so I need to learn to trust my intuition. I got the sun and strength. That’s the good shit. But I also got the devil. So I have to deal with some internal shit too.

The fool means I’m starting a journey. The 2 of swords means I’m having some trouble accepting some truths. The 5 of cups and 5 of pentacles mean I’m looking back on stuff I’ve lost and I feel shitty about it. No doy. King of wands and King of swords mean I’m gonna get some mastery over my feelings and thoughts this summer. Damn, I hope so.

The ace of wands means I’m on a new emotional journey, ready to put some fire back in my soul. The 4 of pentacles bodes well for my finances this summer. Fingers crossed.

And, finally, my favorite card in all of tarot, the 2 of cups. This card is about love. Idk if it means I’ll find love this summer. I highly doubt that. But maybe it means I’ll finally learn to love myself. That’s really the best outcome, isn’t it?

All in all, I can say it was a pretty great reading. I have some stuff to work on but if I spend the time working on myself I should see some great results, like the sun, strength, and love. I’ll get my spark back and maybe learn to love myself.

Of course, all of this is stuff I could have come up with on my own. Or something a traditional therpist would tell me. But who needs therapy when I have a deck of cards with pretty pictures on them?

Anyway, I’m off to go be a hermit now and I try to find that spark. Take care of yourselves.

I had an important thought a few days ago that I’ve been hanging onto and I don’t want to forget it. I would love to write this long winded post outlining my thought process like I normally do but the last several days of my life have taken a toll. So I’m going to be as brief as it’s possible for me to be. Which probably won’t be that brief.

I’ve been through a lot of change since August 7, 2021 and the further I get from that date the easier it is to see a difference between the “old” me and the me I’m becoming. Healing isn’t linear and so even though most of the time I’m moving forward, sometimes I move backward. As I strive to move forward, there are times when something brings up a memory from the past and I feel totally overwhelmed. A lot of times I look back and wonder why I did something, believed something, allowed something in my life. I look at the old me and use my 20/20 hindsight to see through the bullshit. It’s so easy to judge my past self from the safety of the future.

Right now I’m going through the process of trying to downsize my possessions. Seems like I’ve been doing that on wash, rinse, repeat since my ex and I split. Let me tell you, nothing brings up old painful memories like a bunch of stupid tchotchkes and knick-knacks. I’m a sentimental idiot so it’s easy to do.

One day, after having a mental health crisis over some candle holders, I sat down and had a little talk with myself. I didn’t really want the candle holders and I also didn’t want to get rid of them. I honestly couldn’t remember why I liked them so much in the first place. But they were one of the first things I bought to decorate my home with after I was married. It seems like so much of the time when these memories surface, I’m just trying to understand the old me, her motivations, etc. I feel like I’ve spent an inordinate amount of time examining her choices and behaviors for so long now. I’m either chastising or defending the old me or both at the same time. It’s exhausting.

I very much recognize that I’m not the same person I was. Nothing makes that more evident than having conversations with people who knew the old me well but haven’t gotten to know the new me. The truth is that the new me doesn’t totally understand the old me but she’s striving to protect her and defend her. I don’t completely understand some of the choices I made. I mean I *do* but I don’t. Because the current version of me wouldn’t make those same choices. I probably owe that to the old me. I’ve learned a lot from her mistakes.

The biggest thing I’ve come to realize, is if I keep dwelling on the past I can’t grow. I can’t be me if I’m still trying to protect her. That’s it. That’s my big realization. I like the new me; I like who I’m becoming. But if I’m spending my time defending and protecting a version of me that doesn’t exist anymore, I can’t grow.

It’s time to leave my behind in the past, as Pumbaa would say. Or something clever and witty and goofy. Idk.

I want to become who I’m becoming. (Profound, I know.) So I gotta let the old girl go. I love her. I feel so badly for her. She went through a lot of shit that she didn’t deserve. But she’s not here anymore. I am.

I wish I could unzip an invisible zipper in the air that would open onto a pocket dimension just for me. I would take her there along with all the stupid tchotchkes I don’t want and build her a nice little retirement home to spend the rest of her days. But, alas, I cannot. I’ll do it in my mind though. I’ll take her there and safely zip her away so she is protected and can’t be hurt anymore. Because I need to live my life now and I can’t be me if I’m still trying to protect her.

Once, when I was trying to fall asleep, my ex asked me, “Do you think people think you’re a good person or a bad person?” And I replied, “I don’t think people think about me.” He thought that was sad. I felt that it was factual.

Why do we spend so much time wondering what people think of us? The truth is people aren’t thinking about you nearly as much as you think they are. They’re not watching you workout at the gym; they’re watching themselves in the mirror. They’re not watching what you put in your cart at the grocery store or what you ordered at the restaurant; they’re worried someone else is looking at what’s in their cart or on their plate.

We spend our formative years in a microcosm of psychopathy known as public school, where beasts without fully functioning brains outnumber their teachers in a national average of 15 to 1. These merciless brutes DO, in fact, spend way too much time watching other people and making sure those outside their sphere know they are NOT acceptable. We call this bullying and we don’t take it nearly as seriously as we should. This 12 year scenario sets us up to worry about what other people are thinking of us. We want all the Regina George’s of the world to either like us or have no idea we exist.

Some of us are also lucky enough to be blessed with childhood trauma that leaves us teetering on the brink. Judgmental family members help strengthen the connections between neurons firing to tell us everyone is looking at us and laughing/judging/thinking ill. Every move we made was criticized and so we view ourselves through that critical lens. We have to hide our giant, glaring flaws that flash like neon signs above our heads so no one will know we are human and criticize our humanity.

Isn’t the society we’ve built for ourselves fun? We’ve done a stellar job of creating an environment that prioritizes health.

So yeah, I get it. You think everyone is watching you. You think people are thinking about you in their off time. I promise, they’re not. They’re thinking about themselves.

Of course, I’m probably wildly off about this. Because I think about people all the time. But I just can’t imagine a world where anyone is thinking about me in their off time. How boring. Think about something more interesting, weirdo.