Being thrust into the dating world, there are questions that you expect to be asked. Sometimes you can still feel blindsided.
The one that set me sideways was, “where are you from?” I gaped. I didn’t know how to answer. My default has been Los Angeles for most of my life, I was raised there. I met my husband there.
And then I left there with him. We moved to Virginia
We learned how to be adults, and bought a mattress on layaway. We bought our first new tv. We had cats.
And then we left there. We moved back to California.
We remembered how to start over. We found careers. We bought nice cars. We had our cats.
And then we left there. We moved to Denver. We found starting over easy, got a new cat, downsized belongings and bought and a condo at 3.75%. We had a cabin we owned outright. I had vacation days and an expense account.
We had plans to retire by 50, and were on track. I kept colorful spreadsheets. COVID hit. And then our country lost it’s sanity and split into camps. And then PMDD hit. And then inflation hit the transportation industry, and my husband’s business went under. And then life and midlife hit. And then the first lie came.
So we left Denver. We sold our condo, we sold our cars, we sold our life and moved to Spain. I learned what life is like for someone living in a new country with no language to rely on. I learned what it is like to be stared at walking down the street. These are, strangely, things I appreciated. It made me feel what millions of others feel in this world. Like an alien, like someone who doesn’t belong. I also, unfortunately, felt this in my own home too.
And then the first instance of physical violence from the one who swore to care for and protect me. I yanked myself from Spain, one-handed, no longer to travel with my husband or my cat. I flew to DC.
There, I was homed by my bestie and reminded of the beauty of chosen tribe. I bought the first clothes for my new life from thrift stores, and was ecstatic to do it.
I’m not from DC. I was a traveler with intentions of continuing on. I licked my wounds for twenty days and set myself on my way.
I flew to Denver, bought my own car outright and drove the roads that once belonged to us, and to him. En route, I ran over a tire during a blizzard on I-70. The front bumper to the car I had just purchased was torn off. I pulled over, trudged down a 30ft embankment as snow pelted me. I dragged the ragged bumper behind me and threw it in the back seat, as hot tears coursed down frozen cheeks. I drove to my new home, Wichita, KS.
I cried in the lap of my soul sister. I got hugs from mom. I hung with the next generation, kids that shine like precious gems. The home was creative, happy, warm, and kind. I grew an appetite. I grew strong. I became healthy. I became unwavering in protection of myself, although gently. I didn’t feel walls come up, rather walls coming down. I am still learning who I am.
I know I’m not from KS. I am a traveler with sights set on the world. I know where I want to live next, but I still do not know which place can claim me as it’s daughter.
I have had the privilege and luxury to start over with resources that others do not have. I don’t take that privilege lightly. I hope to use my experience to help others. Other people who feel alienated, alone, lost, in pain, and without a voice. There are so many out there.
I hope to use my experience to help other PMDD sufferers, as this disorder can feel impossible to survive at times. I have, thankfully, been symptom-free for eleven beautiful months. Since there were PMDD warriors cheering me on in my darkest days, I owe some rays of sunshine to the sufferers behind me. I linked up with International Association for Premenstrual Disorders and now run a peer support group on PMDD & Relationships. It is a beautiful, healing and positive space.
So, where am I from? These support groups.
The new me was born into the arms of my bestie as I arrived to DC from Spain, bawling and heartbroken.
My resolve to survive was strengthened as that bumper traveled with me to my new home in Kansas.
The new me danced for the first time in the home of my soul sister.
I took baby steps on every trail I walked in the dead of winter, as a cold Kansas wind cut into my bones.
I’ve grown a little with every sunrise and sunset I have witnessed.
It is in all of these beautiful places that I am from.
I’ll always rep the Dodgers…for whatever that’s worth.
If you or a loved one suffers from or would like to learn more about Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder, please check out the International Association for Premenstrual Disorders. They do incredible work in research of Premenstrual Disorders, and also in their outreach and support programs for sufferers.