Anna Rae Gwarjanski Portfolio |
“These times are hard, but I won't walk away jaded, darker, different. I feel. I cry to heal. If you saw me in those moments, maybe you'd think I was a mess. But I don't call it a mess. I call it strength. Like the rest of the world, I’ve been doing a lot of meditating on this decade. In 2009 I was 17, and in 2019 I’m 27. Those are formative years for anyone, but I can’t help but feel this particular decade has had a heck of an influence on me (so self-centered -- millennials, am I right?).
There was a draft of this blog post where I divided each year into chapters and gave a brief-ish synopsis of what I learned, but I didn’t really like it. It seemed too focused on the past. That’s something I’ve always struggled with -- dwelling (wallowing?) on the past versus taking what I need from it and letting go. I used to say that I forgive easily, but I never forget. I don’t think that’s always a bad thing, but if your baggage starts to carve a chip into your shoulder, it may be time to set it down for a while. So, going into 2020, I'm looking back on every piece of luggage I've acquired, no matter how heavy, with gratitude. Some experiences I still don’t understand, but I’m trusting their purpose. There are some things I wish I handled better, but in all, I reflect on the Anna Rae of the 2010s with a great deal of fierce, protective pride. I see someone who simultaneously learned to lean on others, yet intrinsically trust herself. I see a lot of starting over. I see someone who’s found strength in grief. I see someone who’s determined to keep moving forward, always. I see a flood of grace and redemption. I see someone who learned to sit and breathe with pain, and in that, touch the sacred. There have been so many precious patchwork lessons that I now keep cloaked around me, but I guess the woven thread I’ll keep closest is, looking back, the one thing the hard years have in common is that those are the years I tried to travel alone. They’re the years I tried to cover up who I really was, or tried to numb what I really felt, or tried to bury my feelings instead of working through them, or felt ashamed and alone in my struggles, or tried to harden my heart to love. Some people, the world needs to shatter to see the truth about themselves and what they really need. It was that way for me. When I look back, I see a see a heart that had to be cracked open so the light could get inside. But now that it has, I never want it to be closed again. I wonder what 2029 Anna Rae will think of 2019 me. I wonder what lessons she’ll have learned. I wonder if, 10 years from now, she’ll be writing a similar blog post. Whoever she is, whatever she’s doing, I hope she still has a heart that’s been split wide open. I hope she never takes that gift for granted.
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About the AuthorConfessions of a failed southern lady. I've got messy hair and a thirsty heart. Writer, photographer, career wanderer. Archives
May 2023
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