*

[imperfect-pursuit]

In Ten Years

https://www.theisolationjournals.com/explore/128-a-day-in-the-life-of-my-dreams-hollye-jacobs?rq=dream

Ten years from now… I am 34. My parents will be in their early 60s. My brother 31. Ahhhhhh what.

It’s a Monday morning (but what are days really). I wake up with the kids and make breakfast. I feel exhausted, because alone time is hard to come by these days. Nothing prepared me for this. I am reminded of the time ten years ago, when I was in a GC full of people in this stage. It is just as hard and busy as it sounded.

Husband is off to work. I go over to mom’s and dad’s to drop off the kids for a few hours so I can run some errands. I’m so thankful they wanted to be around. I’m so thankful.

I go to Costco, then Hmart. I take the dogs for a walk. The dogs are as much work as I thought they would be, but I still love them so much. Totally worth it. Even though they pee on the carpet sometimes and still bark at our neighbors.

Is this the life of my dreams? When I was younger, my dreams were more extravagant, like becoming a professor of law, a judge, or a government attorney. Or something like working with North Korean defectors or in economic development. Something that signaled intelligence, influence, importance. Something meaningful, and with passion. A worthy cause. A valuable member of society.

I didn’t think the stay-at-home mom life would ever be for me. I had too many interests. Aspirations. And the work ethic! I studied my butt off for 16 years. It seems disjointed, but I know it was really a privilege to have been able to study so hard in my childhood through college. To not have any other worries. Privilege upon privilege.

I think of my education as a rite of passage. Dictated by society. But who is society? We are. Obviously, I was too naive to really think outside the lines, but I just followed the guidelines all the way through my first job in consulting. What a time that was. I try to use my education in the best way I can. To build others up. To share what I have. Maybe in another season I will go back to work, or follow through with that move or otherwise. But for now, I am content.

I miss the old days where I would host dinner parties in my apartment in Arlington, or when I would play volleyball at least once a week. When I had the time to read and write as I pleased (though I didn’t always take advantage of it). When I would go into DC every weekend to see a different friend or try a new restaurant. When every day offered the excitement of a new opportunity or interaction. When every day seemed to be a step towards defining who I was becoming.

I know I’m still growing. Life looks different now, again. It’s always changing. It’s hard to keep up. The next thing comes as soon as you feel like you have gotten used to the a new season.

I set the table for dinner. Kimchi jjigae. My favorite. Husband comes home from work. We’re all tired, but it’s okay. The kids finally go to sleep and we have a few hours to catch up about our days. It’s nice to unwind like this. To feel heard and supported and be encouraged to do better. Tomorrow, I’m excited because I’m finally grabbing lunch with some friends. I’m thankful for all the people in my life. Thankful to God.

[imperfect-pursuit]

what ifs

I don’t know how I got here. I feel like it didn’t have to be like this. That if I had gotten assigned to different cases, managers, etc. that I would not be where I am today. 

Was it under-billing that exacerbated my struggle with the hours? The lack of empathy I felt I received from someone who had the ability to speak into my work life? The fact that I barely got to work on a full, solid case of my interest with a team that I knew? Would things have been better if I had moved out? If we were back in the office? 

Probably, yes. To everything. And I could sit here being angry at the world for it. But maybe this is grace in disguise. That all my questions about our moral responsibility in this line of work, the meaningless of the late nights and weekend work that don’t make it anywhere, the frustration of not being able to be sure what each day will look like, the whiplash of working with so many different teams... it feels like I received a particularly unfortunately set of circumstances, but it only reflects the pool of options that exist there. Many large cases are volatile and busy. Most people have too much on their plate to properly care for one another. Client-facing work is inevitably responsive to client demands. I am a planner that enjoys flexibility. Working here has had its ups and downs, but reality has mostly been a huge departure from my expectations and has led to a lot of cynicism. Maybe this is grace for me to leave.

It feels so... wrong. I don’t have anything lined up. I’m not a quitter. This feels like giving up. I feel blind walking into this. I hate talking about it with my parents and don’t have any other adults to tell me that what I’m doing is okay, or that they understand why I feel the way I feel. It feels wrong to try to walk my own way and make my own decisions. I feel empowered by the world to do so, but unconfident in the role I feel my faith has played in this so far. 

It’s weird living under your parents’ roof and trying to be your own person at the same time. I feel like they deserve to hear my thoughts. And I want to be a good daughter. I want to let them into more of life, to share, to value their thoughts. But it feels suffocating sometimes. I don’t feel I can have a productive conversation with them about it right now. If I weren’t living here I don’t think I would think to tell them until after the fact.  

[imperfect-pursuit]

Slow decisions

I’m sitting on my parents’ deck at 7:24pm on a Monday evening in April. It’s 70 degrees: the perfect temperature that does not offend; room temperature, but with the freshness of the trees breathing into the air and the distant sound of birds chirping, cars accelerating, children playing.

I’m sitting here because I know I’ve kept some thoughts in my head for a bit too long. A decision that seems bigger than it probably is hangs over my head. My heart is beating with the anxiousness and nervousness of uncertainty, fear, anticipation, hope.

Lately I’ve been noticing changes in my attitude and beliefs that happen one degree at a time. “How can I make the best of the situation?” turned into “what is our leave of absence policy?” turned into “is it immature/irresponsible for me to take one?” turned into “maybe I should take it” turned into “maybe I need to take it.” 

Every person I tell has responded neutral to positively. My parents, of course, being on the neutral end, and my friends being on the positive. A smile. “Yaaas.” “Sometimes I don’t like having opinions on your work stuff bc I know nothing about corporate life. But I think it’s a great idea.” 

I recognize the immense privilege I have to even consider this option. The fact that I have a job to begin with. The fact that I have a job that offers leave of absences. The fact that I have the financial means to take an unpaid leave. It has honestly been a huge weight on my shoulders that prevented me from truly considering this option for a while. Why can’t I just suck it up like everybody else? Humans had to farm to survive for years. Every generation before me has had to work to put a roof over our heads. Work is supposed to be hard. Taking a leave of absence feels like giving up and childish.

Add to this guilt, a cup of pride (I am stronger than this. I can push through. I can work hard to try to make things better again.), a dash of financial concerns (Think about all the money you won’t be saving. If you do go back to the firm, you’ll be behind in promotions. If you don’t go back, you won’t get your bonus. You’ll have to pay back half of your signing bonus. Did you really work this hard only to have to take unpaid leave because of it?), a tablespoon of worry (Will you even be able to use the time well? What if six months go by and you still don’t have anything figured out? What if you find yourself worse off and regret taking this?), and a sprinkle of doubt (Do I believe the things I am thinking? What if my compass has been uncalibrated and I am going off in the wrong direction? Is this just me wanting to play?). 

How do you consider the long game when you are in your early twenties, when you are still single and open to any career path, when your values, priorities seem to be slowly finding their happy place, and absolutely nothing seems set in stone? In ten years you could be across the country, or the globe, raising children, married to a job or a mission, living in the corporate or creative or another world. I feel like I’m trying to aim my arrow at the target blindfolded, with idea whether I’m even pointing in the right direction. 

[imperfect-pursuit]

It’s a marathon, stop sprinting.

One of the lessons I wrote down from my first year of post-grad is patience. It was about how the pace of life feels the same, but progress looks a bit different. I said then that it took a year to find my bearings, but now I realize I still haven’t found them. I’m continuing to unlearn and rethink things. I continue to affirm the fact that relationships take longer now. At first I had a lot of unmet expectations, not realizing that some things just take time. Instead of lowering my expectations, I’m learning to lengthen them.

I’m still learning to lengthen them. Because wow, things truly take time. Even with writing, this desire of mine that I wanted to grow and cultivate, is much more of a journey than I realized when I first began to think about it. I started thinking about writing months ago and started writing a little bit after that. In my mind, two months should be plenty of time to really be in the rhythm of something, to have something to show for it. But it doesn’t feel like it at all. Instead it feels like this is something that has haphazardly materialized, very on and off, directionless, and without any shape or sign of progress.

Writing it out shows me the unreasonableness of my expectations. Two months is a really short time to begin with. Add onto that a full-time+ job, a cold winter, a low season and... I’ve actually made a lot of progress. My writing does have shape: I have thoughts and am slowly starting to find my voice. I’ve dipped my toes in the water and know what it kind of feels like. I’ve begun the practice of writing, so I have an idea of how to build that. I’ve introduced myself to communities of writers and creatives and have been inspired, encouraged, and given perspective on this desire that was once held really close to my heart, a seed that I shone no light on. I didn’t want to expose it to any, for fear that I would come across many other seeds and lose mine in their midst. Not realizing that seeds thrive in the presence of others (not sure if this is biologically true, but am lazily continuing the analogy).

I digress. Exciting things are ahead. I’m glad I’m finding my desire to write to be less unique than I had hoped. I need that breathe of reality to inform how I choose to cultivate my practice and invest my time. I’m thinking of moving one last time, to a real website this time. But there is a lot of fear around putting things I can’t just call “ten minute poems” and “word vomits” out there. A lot of uncertainty around how to set things up, what to write, who to write for. But it’s a marathon, not a sprint. So I won’t have it figured out anytime soon. But I’ll keep running.

[imperfect-pursuit]

Growing pains

I need to stop fooling myself into thinking that I can simply fix myself with a new regiment or set of habits. That I can “improve” myself by completing a self-made rubric that consists of healthy eating, daily exercise, a few hobbies on rotation, as if becoming a better, more worthy person consisted of checking off all the boxes and getting an A. 

First of all, it’s really hard to check off the boxes. I forget to consider myself on a bad day when embarking on these challenges I make for myself. I forget that I am a human and that I can’t simply write an if-else statement to dictate my behavior. It’s easy to commit to waking up early and going on a run after a good night’s rest and a morning coffee, but doing so in the middle of a personal rut and work stress is another story. 

I always tell myself that this is it, that I am going to turn a new leaf. I’m full of inspiration, hope, optimism -- and little to no realism. I quickly run into a late night, bad day -- a blip in the system that causes me to reboot and lose my memory because soon enough, I will find myself doing the same thing over again.

Second of all, I’m not sure an A is really what I think it is. As a student, an A meant I did the best I could. But what is “the best” in life? There is no such thing. I forget that I look back on my student days and cringe at how much emphasis I put on those grades as an indicator of my abilities, virtues, progress... I forget that a 93 was an A as much as a 100 was. Grades are neither holistic nor nuanced enough to describe our understanding of classroom material, and they are definitely not fit to score our lives. But it’s really hard to move to a multi-dimensional understanding of your worth when you’ve been streamlined into one-dimensional measures of excellence your whole life.

Where is the path forward from all this? What do I do to fix the way I am trying to fix myself? I’m not so sure, but as a first step what I can do is to try to stop grading myself every day, with every meal, picture, and conversation. I can start letting others back into my life. And I can work on showing myself more grace, because I know I need it, and thus show others that grace too. My body is not an assignment I can complete in one day. It does not hinge on any one day, success, or failure, but is something to be maintained, day after day. 

[imperfect-pursuit]

Take ownership of yourself

I feel like I’m waiting, probing around for someone to give me permission to quit. For someone to tell me that it’s okay. That I’m right. That this job is not compatible with a full life as I see it.

I went through K-12 and all of college just following the rules. Studying hard, participating in extracurriculars that seemed interesting, but also resume-building, finding things to do each summer, getting an internship, getting a job...

Now that I have one of those (a job), I find myself in a new arena. Where there are the rules change depending on who you talk to and often seem to conflict with each other. I was the perfect student for the school system. I did what I was told and checked all the boxes. But there is no system that defines what the right way to do things are anymore. There is no rubric to grade you on your decisions to study or play, to choose work or leisure.

You have to figure it out for yourself. But it’s hard, because present you and future you might have different perspectives and priorities. There is no one out there defining what is important for you anymore -- maybe there never had to be, but at least there was the option to opt-in to what the education system would have you prioritize. You’re going to make mistakes. You’re going to have regrets. But you have to learn to make your own decisions and judge yourself by nobody else’s measuring stick, but by the one you have chosen for yourself. 

Of course, this can and will change throughout your life. No one has it all figured out. But you can’t keep looking to others’ rubric to determine how to operate your own life. Stop letting others, or your perception of them, make your decisions for you. Learn to take ownership of your life. Ride it through the ups and downs. Keep reflecting and adjusting and moving forward.

[imperfect-pursuit]

It’s an interesting dynamic. I fear engagement and am tempted to either assimilate or withdraw. At the same time, I desire engagement as a sign of the solidity of my own faith, if I am able to take input from all sorts of people and still hold fast to my own. I don’t feel I can complete until I “arrive” at a stage where I can, and I hesitate to share any of this in the process. 

I hesitate because I can’t tell you with surety which way I’ll sway. I hesitate because parts of me feel childish, even idiotic. Too lost to know anything worth knowing, too lost in her own head to be relatable or understandable. Maybe it’s the four in me being dramatic. Lots of people embark on their own journey to know. Lots of people don’t. Lots of people share their journey to know. Lots of people don’t. Who is to say anyone is better for being in one camp or the other? At the end of the day, we are all humans who are finite in our ability to know and be sure of things.

[imperfect-pursuit]

Things I’m wrestling with

thinking not enough, thinking too much

holistic health and prioritizing it

having good disciplines without being too disciplined

a plethora of options in a defining decade

feeling paralyzed by an unescapable naïveté 

privilege

whether my privilege is something to exercise, enjoy, and benefit from

what the history behind the privilege I have means for me and my life 

confident faith in a pluralistic society

what it means to be part of an ethnic, religious community

resisting the overreaching influence of media, accepting the inevitable influence of media

desiring to speak without actually having anything to say

seeing the beauty of life without getting lost in senseless romanticism 

moving forward even if it means some things might get a little messier

accepting that things are not perfect or black and white

embracing that things are gray and both good and bad

how to recover from a semi mental health crisis

[imperfect-pursuit]

Why Misaeng was the most cathartic drama to watch as a young professional

Misaeng: Incomplete Life (미생) is a Korean drama about the workplace. It follows a handful of other young professionals through all the stresses and different dynamics of the office, and more specifically, one team as they struggle to perform and meet company expectations.

Watching this show genuinely felt like therapy. I empathized with the new hires as they got slammed with work, worried about doing a good job, and worked late into the night, alone in the office. I was coming out of eleven months of working on a project where I felt so unseen, unknown, and isolated, and it was very affirming and cathartic to see these characters go through the same thing. It shone light to the reality that I am not alone; in fact, many people share in this experience, but being new and working virtually had made it much harder to see.

Misaeng also gave me new hope and perspective for work life. The busyness, pressure, and stress that arise from the demands of work can often define one’s work experience. In the midst of this striving, making friends or even being kind to one another can be lost, and to a new hire (or as I like to think of it, a baby chick) in the workplace, this can be very discouraging and difficult to navigate. Watching the team go through all of that, but also see how under the surface they do care for and support each other, helped me to gain a deeper perspective on the day-to-day work experience. The way someone emails, speaks, or even looks at you can be harsh sometimes, and definitely misunderstood if taken personally. However, it is more often than not the product of a day’s worth of stress, and not about their actual attitude towards you. While it may not be the reality you want to experience, it helped me better understand my interactions with colleagues. It also makes the little moments of joy all the more special and heartwarming. I’m not sure if I cried more watching the scenes of frustration or celebration, because it’s really the sense of connection, purpose, accomplishment, and humor that get us through the day.

[You can watch Misaeng on Netflix. It is one season with 20 episodes, which are 1-1.5 hours each.]

[imperfect-pursuit]

Sometimes the best way to love is to receive

Mother wraps her arms around me and I wriggle away. I told you I don’t like that, and nothing’s changed Mother pouts and says “fine, that’s okay.”

Mother opens my door and does a shy wave I barely notice, I’m staying focused Doesn’t she know I’m busy by the look I gave

Mother says hi in an aegyo (baby) voice Why do you do that, I’m not a child “Let me enjoy it while I can, it’s my choice”

I want to be better to my parents, I always say I should do chores and treat them and buy nice things  But maybe I can start by receiving her way

Her way of saying, I love you- It’s quite different from what I’d do. But maybe this one small way I can give, I believe  Sometimes the best way to love is to receive.

[imperfect-pursuit]

Winter

it’s that time of year again the time to hibernate, as I’m told the time when beds are comfier and keep you safe from the treacherous cold 

it’s that time of year again when much is dark and drear when despair, anxiety, and loneliness are covered up in lights and cheer

it’s that time of year again when all the trees stand bare when we pine for what was and soon will be the joy of warmth in the air

how can it be that time again  the most wonderful difficult time of year the season where optimism and silver linings are required to hope and persevere

next time it’s that time again and so it will be, as it is understood and so it will be, unrelenting and firm if it won’t change, maybe I should...

next time it’s that time again i will come more prepared i will bring double socks and a more open mind  to see what’s special and not to compare

next time it’s that time again i’ll rejoice in midday walks and weekend hikes i’ll rejoice in giving and christmas bops cozy up to hot chocolate or apple cider, maybe spiked

[imperfect-pursuit]

The vulnerability of anticipation

I don’t really like to get excited about too many things. Birthdays, graduations, banquets... they don’t seem worth the hype. I thought it was the wisdom in me that underlay these guarded expectations, and part of that may be true. We shouldn’t put all of our hope in one moment or event, because at the end of the day, this too shall pass, and there is more meaning to our lives and milestones than just one celebratory occasion. However, I wonder if this is yet another way I shield myself from potential disappointment -- by not really caring in the first place.

Looking back, I was really disappointed at a few things I was really looking forward to -- my confirmation, a senior banquet, a birthday alone. I let these experiences build a wall within me. I don’t plan things for my birthday and have zero expectations, so I don’t get disappointed. I didn’t go to prom because I didn’t think it would be anything spectacular. I went through the motions for graduation, but didn’t think it was a big deal. 

This has allowed me to be successful in avoiding disappointment, but in that I think I have missed out on the fullness of joy as well. If I plan something fun for myself, wouldn’t I be very likely to enjoy it? Yes, there’s always high school drama and parties aren’t really my personality, but wouldn’t prom have still been a fun memory with friends? And how privileged and ungrateful is it for me to feel that graduation is meaningless? 

It’s silly, but watching Lara Jean excited at her graduation in TATB3 made me think back to how I felt during my own. I feel like I missed out on the simple act of celebration in my life. It’s not about the worth of the event itself, but the object of celebration. I want to be someone who gets excited and experiences the fullness of joy in these little moments, even if it means there will also times I find myself disappointed. I think this is something that will be really difficult for me to unlearn, as it is really my natural tendency to keep my expectations real low, but we’ll see what this looks like for me.

[imperfect-pursuit]

The vulnerability of showing up

We live in a world where the busier you are, the more you are. We complain-brag about our back-to-back-to-back meetings and forgetting to eat. Multitasking makes us feel productive and efficient, even important. We’re on our phones during meetings and even meals with loved ones because there is “something” out there that needs our ever so valuable attention (or, whatever is at hand is just not interesting enough).

Today I was reminded of the value of simply showing up and being present. To give people your time of day and show that they are worth it. We can’t always be reaching out to people, planning events, etc., but we can choose to show up and be present at each opportunity. It reminded me of a part from Mari Andrew’s Am I There Yet? that I really liked:

Show up for work. Take charge of your responsibilities. Be honest. Ask questions. Work hard. Offer to help, offer to stay, but don’t let it keep you from doing other showing up for your loved ones.

These words really resonate with me. But it’s honestly really hard. How do you know if you’re showing up too much? Do they deserve to receive that from you? It’s a vulnerable thing to show up and to be present because you are telling the other that you value them enough to do so. Unfortunately enough, I’ve spent a lifetime making sure that I am never the one who cares the most in the room. It’s too much of a burden to bear; the potential disappointment only increases, and it never seems to be the “cool” thing to be... Also, when it comes to work, it can be hard to see where the line is between showing up to work and not letting that hinder you showing up for other things.

And even with the best of intentions, I don’t think my attention span is long enough anymore to really be present for anything. It’s funny how I think this ties into both my relationship with technology and my fear of vulnerability, which are both things I want to dig deeper into...

[imperfect-pursuit]

The push and pull of technology

I’m what you might call a late bloomer when it comes to tech adoption. It really wasn’t by choice; it originated as the result of my parents’ decisions and left me full of disappointment as a child. I still remember how I felt when I finally got the email I begged for in 5th grade, dreaming about getting a Nintendo DS until 6th grade, and being enchanted with my first phone in 7th grade.

Looking now, growing up with limited technology use has definitely engrained some sort of inertia in me that has remained with me so far. But it doesn’t mean I’m exempt from distraction or the same mindless media consumption that we all fall prey to these days. Even before smartphones, my phone took me away from my love of books. Even though I was only allowed to send and receive 50 text messages a month, my mom noticed that I couldn’t be anywhere without my phone. I loved playing with the touchscreen of my blue LG Xenon, sliding sideways to reveal a full length keyboard, and figuring out dumb things, like how to get it to play “Fireflies” by Owl City, which I would excitedly show my parents again and again and again and again. I can look back and say that this was really what hindered my ability to focus on a book for years, until I rekindled my love for reading towards the end of college. 

Since then, I’ve been wrestling with this push and pull I feel with technology. There is something so exciting (read: dopamine) about connecting with others, receiving that notification, watching a good show. But it is so easy to cross the line from moderation into compulsion, addiction, and intrusion. And over the past decade or so, I have been teeter-tottering between the two extremes of complete avoidance and full immersion. 

I have done more technology fasts than I can count. I have given up texting and/or social media for Lent for many years. I have deleted my Instagram twice, deactivated Facebook countless times, and one time in high school, I replaced all methods of communication with just email. But I have also binged Korean dramas and YouTube videos, scrolled endlessly on Instagram for hours, and have found myself engrossed more in my phone than in my surroundings.

This is why I found Cal Newport’s Digital Minimalism to be so interesting. He introduced to me the idea of a philosophy of technology use, the idea that we should be thoughtful and intentional about how we adopt something that can so easily influence and even overtake our daily lives (i.e. technology), rather than mindlessly defaulting to full adoption, as has become our norm to do so.

I’m still working on my personal philosophy of technology use. There are definite benefits to all of this technology around us, but it comes with a lot of baggage. I know the answer does not require complete avoidance; when I gave up texting and social media, email virtually became a new form of texting with my closest friends. And especially now with the pandemic, our connection with others will be severely restricted if we were to give it all up now. But at the same time, I did not watch Netflix or YouTube even just two years ago. My life was completely whole and full without it, but now I find it incredibly enticing and difficult to give up. As a wrestle with these thoughts and experiences more and more, I hope to find a meaningful way to engage and navigate with our digital world. 

[imperfect-pursuit]

Green

Prompt: Come up with as many adjectives or descriptive words as you can think of that convey the idea of green. 

Positive: peaceful, natural, calming, healthy, good, go, deep, fun, different, pretty, rich, on, light, nutritious, life, alive, beautiful, sophisticated, simple, easy, start, mature, delicious, ripe, powerful, neutral, outside, bright, neon, sage, evergreen, forest, grass, fresh, olive, emerald, lawn, camouflage, army, vegetables, khaki, ocean, sea, science, chalkboard, mermaid, yellow, blue, grapes, kale, spinach, juice, smoothie, detox, cleanse

Negative: puke, vomit, envy, greed, tasteless, sick, dull, dark, unsettling, intimidating, ugly, gross, artificial, primary, elementary, difficult, childish, disgusting, unripe, authoritative, clashing, money, cash, lime, candy apple

[imperfect-pursuit]

The push and pull of embracing yourself

I am an INTJ, a 5w4. StrengthFinder tells me that Learner, Achiever, and Intellection are among my top themes. And I have always been a little ashamed of these descriptions.

I remember I once met someone with the same strengths in common. He joked and said, “Hey, you’re a robot like me, but at least you’re a nice robot.” (Harmony was another one of my strengths, whereas Competition was one of his.) It was one of the many instances in which I felt like my MBTI, enneagram, or strengths affirmed that indeed, I am somewhat robotic, and therefore missing something that others have.

I know I am more than what these personality tests can tell me, but I realize that these personality types capture the parts of me I am most insecure about. These are aspects of myself that I find difficult to embrace because it makes me feel less than human.

To me, to be human is to love, to express, to be vulnerable. And I am not very much of any one of those things... at least in the ways that I think I should be. For some reason (or for maybe good reason), I think that the essence of humanity lies within relationships. And not just any kind of relationship, but the kind that involves blood, sweat, and tears in the way you share and invest and engage with one another. Whereas the types of relationships that I feel suit my personality are the kind that are more functional, less frequent, less intimate.

The words that describe 5w4s are “intense,” “cerebral,” “secretive,” or “isolated.” They draw a tension in me: I cringe and desperately wish that other words would fit me better, while I am also excited by the thought of withdrawing to enjoy introspection and revelation. And this is the crossroads at which I stand. Part of me wants to embrace my desire to write, to think, to read . . . even at the cost of time with friends, family, building relationships and having fun. The other part of me mourns over the image of the recluse or the harried writer, who pursued her curiosities at the cost of distanced friendships and misunderstandings. 

I know this is not all-or-nothing, but more likely an opportunity to expand my own perspective on what it looks like to love, comfort, and connect. The question I’m asking myself now is, what might it look like to share, connect with, and love others as a type 5 (while also being cognizant of the way they receive love)?

[imperfect-pursuit]

Turning a new page

It’s hard to believe that this is my ~third~ blog now, but here we are. For now, this is the place where I want to start a daily practice of writing, of getting thoughts down on paper and slowly beginning to hone in on my craft of words. Might be a bunch of randomness at first, but hopefully a drawing board for things to come :)