out with the old, in with the new

In four weeks, I’ll be living in Philadelphia.

Everything will be settled.  Everything will be unsettled.

Am I ready? Yes. No. Maybe.

I’m ready to have my family back under one roof.  I’m ready to be out of this holding pattern.  I’m ready to get on with it.  To arrange furniture and unpack my art supplies and organize drawers and find a place for everything. I’m ready to see Kevin off in the morning and know that he’ll be back in less than 12 hours.  I’m ready for bare white walls. I’m ready to put aside the endless projects that come with owning a home.  I’m ready to walk into town for a coffee. And later that day walk back into town for ice cream. I’m ready to stock the freezer with popsicles and the fridge with lemonade and let the kids run wild. I’m ready to put a pot of geraniums on the porch and call it a garden. I’m ready to take the train into the city just because we can.

Yep, I’m more than ready.

And I have faith, so much faith, that this is the right move for our family.  That the kids won’t miss a beat.  That this is the perfect job for Kevin.  That our quality of life is going to improve dramatically.

The only thing I might be doubting a little is myself.  This move just happens to be coinciding with a significant shift that I’ve been going through. Back in January I made a commitment to get out of my own way.  To stop doing the same shit that always ends in the same result. To face my demons head on with so much self-love that they run the other way. To not only be open but to reach out and take what I value and to let go of the things that I don’t. To not only listen but to also share. I’ve come to terms with myself, shaken off a lot of hang-ups, kicked perfectionism to the curb (for reals this time) and put into high gear the journey, as Anna Quinlen said at my college graduation, “of becoming my true self.”

So which Kaly will show up in Philadelphia?  That’s the million dollar question.

There’s the quiet, stand-offish Kaly often mislabeled as a bitch and a snob that comfortably stays on the outside of things – best suit of armor ever. The Kaly who never really takes a position. Who doesn’t ruffle feathers.  Or take stands. Or impose.  Who takes care of it on her own. Who keeps her voice in her head.  And her head down. Who lets others take the lead and the spotlight. Who diminishes her accomplishments and her potential.  Who holds her ideas in such low esteem that even posting on Facebook is anxiety inducing. This is the Kaly that I’ve been trying to shake-off.  She’s not a bad person, she’s just a big scaredy-cat.  And she is not invited to Philadelphia.

So with this move, I get a clean slate to try something different. And that is so exciting and so terrifying. Will I make the choice to be open?  Will I have the courage to not hold myself apart? To express my opinions and point of view? To make eye contact instead of look away? To ask for help when I need it? To chime in instead of sit back? Will I be the writer and designer that I know that I am? Or when people ask me what I do will I say, “Oh, I’m home with the kids right now.”  Little choices.  In the beginning, it’s the little choices that will matter. Once the tone is set, it will be hard to reverse it.

Becoming yourself is complicated and messy. And I’m finding it is not a task for the faint of heart.  But, I’m up for it.  I’m ready to leave behind the parts that haven’t served me so well and take a step closer to where and who I want to be.  Out with the old and in with the new as they say.

Four weeks and counting…any words of advice for moving into a new place?  Now’s the time.