The early 90s came and brought with it a unique set of challenges.  I had moved out of my dad’s house and was living on my own.  (If you can count an apartment full of roommates as being on my own.)  I had started taking classes at the local college and was working as a chiropractic assistant full-time.  For the most part, things were good.  At least on the outside.  On the inside, I felt a bit lost. 

But I kept plugging along.  I had a decent job and I was providing for myself.  My classes were good and I was enjoying meeting new people.  I had finally grown out of the gangly phase of my earlier teens and I had begun to date a lot.  This was both enjoyable and problematic.  You see, during high school I had friends, but didn’t date much and unfortunately my self esteem suffered because of it.  As a result, I was a 19/20 year old with some new-found attention from the opposite sex and I didn’t know how to take it.  Which meant that I dated a lot but couldn’t settle down.  Which generally isn’t a problem when you’re that young.  The problem was that I didn’t know what I was looking for. 

This transferred to other parts of my life too.  I began moving around.  Every six months or so I would find a new apartment.  And in school I couldn’t decide what to major in or even which undergraduate classes to take.  I just felt restless.  I didn’t know what I wanted to do or where I wanted to be. 

And before I knew it, I had turned 19. Then 19 turned into 20 and 20 turned into 21.  Instead of figuring things out, it was getting worse.  Oh I didn’t do anything wild and crazy, but I had turned my back on my upbringing.  I had distanced myself from my family and spent a lot of time being either alone or with a few friends.  I know now that a lot of people go through this stage at some point in their lives and at various degrees of intensity, and for me it was no different.  I think it’s a part of maturing and trying to find your place in the world. 

I also think that everyone eventually reaches a point where you start to figure things out.  By 22, I had finally reached that point.  I had learned from my experiences and knew what I didn’t want in life and I turned away from it.  I continued to think about my future and what I was going to do with it, but this time I felt like I had more direction.  I started spending time with my family again.  In fact, I moved home for a while, which was surprisingly nice.  I started going back to church too, which had been such an integral part of my life previously.  I found it was a tremendous help and for the first time in years, I felt at peace with myself. 

In fact, I had a whole new outlook.  I was excited about new possibilities and found myself wanting to try different things.  The South where I had been born and raised no longer held the same appeal and I found myself itching to leave.  The question was, what would I do?  Where would I go? Maybe I could go to school in another state?  Or maybe I should move to Virginia and live with family while I started working in the area?  Suddenly there seemed to be so many paths from which to choose. 

I would have never predicted the one I ended up taking…

(to be continued)

 

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