I thought being a grown up would be simple. I would be one of those go getting women who graduated from college like it was the easiest 4 years of her life. The type who guffawed at studying for the Graduate School Entry Exam because I would ace it just because I could without any studying involved. I would then graduate, wear fabulous high heels and pencil skirts everyday, have a loft in a great city and be married to a Ryan Reynolds look alike who loved culture, traveling and J Crew. I was sure that any life other than this would be pathetic, at best.
None of that happened. None. Zip. Zero. Zilch.
And I'm basically pretty happy about it. (The only thing I would change is having at least one degree. And the loft. But I would be content with the loft being a get away and not the primary residence.)
My pursuit of this life was quite simply a disaster. The years of 20-23 are basically years of me with a treasure map, hunting down this elusive treasure that literally didn't exist outside of my mind. I so badly wanted to make something of my life that I missed out on my life by doing lots of disastrous and unhealthy things. (i.e. dating a guy who was {SO} wrong for me. So wrong. On every level. And I was convinced I could make him into the best thing that happened to me. Such a bad idea. Also, because of stress of unhealthy relationship I became one of those people who ate their feelings and ballooned up to the biggest I had ever been. Then enter huge insecurity over weight, lack of college degree, knowledge relationship was wrong but trying to prove it was fine and just the other basic girl life disasters of the early twenties.) I was a mess. So, I did the only logical thing I could think of...
I ran away to Folkestone, Kent, UK. The first place I lived outside of my parents house and the only place that, at that specific point in my life, I knew who I was. It had been 6 years since I had previously lived there but I knew that was where I needed to be to break free from all that I was entangled with in Idaho and start brand new.
England to me was like an open heart surgery that I was awake for. It was awful and awesome and it saved me. Maybe it was living with the most incredible wife, mother, Jesus lover, counselor and all around rockstar ever, Sarah Laferme and her superbly wonderful family. Or maybe it was walking everywhere and literally shedding weight as well as baggage with each step of those hilly streets. I know for sure it was thanks to friendships with women who saw past the Great Wall of Insecurity and Shame and forced me into friendships that I so desperately needed. I prayed more than I had in years and felt more free with every uttered syllable. I just let all of what I left in Idaho go and lived with what I had in England. I ventured to France, met a Spanish soccer team, volunteered for an incredible church, soaked in all I could from the incredible Sarah and just let every other thing go. I soaked up the sea salted air. I just lived with abandon for the first time in years. Life was an adventure.
(What more does a girl need than London and the iconic phone booth? Adventure. Right there.)
Within months, I started to feel the shift again and I knew it was time to go back to America. So I waited, rebelled a little and prepared my heart. I knew that coming back and facing what I ran away from wasn't going to be easy but I knew now how to stand alone.
And so I cried. I cried while telling Sarah I knew it was time to go and that I didn't want to. I cried walking home from my darling friend Helen's house. I cried when I called my mom. I cried all. the. time. (and that hasn't really changed much since). I was so frustrated. Everything within me wanted to stay and be England Katie.
With tears streaming down my cheeks, I booked the flight for the following Wednesday. I bit my lip all the way to the airport and held the tears back all the way until I handed my ticket over to board the flight. And then the tears just fell. But with each tear, my heart pounded a little stronger. By the time I landed in Cincinnati, I resembled a blow fish. By the time I squeezed my friend Erin's neck at the Boise airport, I just looked swollen and sleep deprived. But she said I looked calm. And she was right. For the first time in years, I was at peace.
What I didn't know was that the place I was fighting against, was exactly where I was meant to be. It's where I found my husband. It's where I found the pace I needed to begin to make desires into ideas into reality. Going from here to there and back again was just what I needed. And just like I knew it when my feet touched the hot tarmac in Boise in August of 2009, I know today that the best is yet to come.
