Uneasy Transitions
I'm feeling uneasy about going back to New York on Saturday.
My three weeks in Cape Cod have been rewarding and eye-opening.
I’ve learned that I have to move my body at least once a day. Non-negotiable. My nervous system demands it.
I’ve had so many opportunities to learn from—and brainstorm with—incredibly talented people. I’ve met people I know I’ll collaborate with on my creative projects in the future. I’ve met people who, I’m certain, will one day reach out to work with me. I’ve learned a lot about how the creative process works behind the scenes. I’ve made new friends. And I’ve even found a romantic connection I want to follow up on once we’re back in New York
I’ve learned that I have to keep moving forward, even without certainty. I’ve met several successful people here who also don’t know what’s next, and they’re going with the flow. It’s comforting. I’m also learning that not every party needs me. Rest and recharging are essential, and I need to honor my body’s needs over appearances.
I’ve also learned a lot of important lessons.
I saw how quickly knowledge-sharing can turn into backlash. The lesson? Listen more, speak less. Hard for me, but necessary. There are things we share, and there are things we keep to ourselves. I’m so done being the collateral damage, and I’m so over people morphing and misshaping my words for their own motives.
I’ve learned that people will continue to hurt me simply because I exist. I’m not easily digestible, I shine very bright, and some people react by tearing me down. It hurts, but I have to accept it and move forward.
I also still have work to do around attachment.
I’ve said before: money has derailed me on my path to peace, but so has attaching to others too quickly. This is the first crush I’ve had since doing all my healing work, and it has been a disorienting experience. The second we made eye contact, I could feel my nervous system regressing into old patterns. I didn’t expect to meet such an incredibly talented and magnetic person.
And yet, this person makes me feel alive. He loves my art, my energy, my brain, the way I speak (among other things…). We both want to save the world in our own way. The lesson? Detachment. If it’s meant to be, it will be. I have my own goals and my own life. If someone wants to come in, wonderful. Until then, I have to play it cool. Fortunately, the work I’ve done to love myself has made practicing detachment much easier this time around.
Driving around Cape Cod also makes me think of my grandpa. He was a truck driver and loved being on the road. I inherited that from him. I’ve also been thinking about St. Christopher, patron saint of travelers—no coincidence, since my grandpa has worn a St. Christopher gold charm around his neck for most of his life.
AND LAST WEEK, my grandpa decided to pass his St. Christopher on to me. I was moved to tears—overjoyed and so grateful. It’s one of the greatest gifts I’ve ever received. But it also feels like a sign: I may not have much time left with him. I also know that my mom will be furious that he chose to give it to me, but it’s his choice, not hers.
I also had a birthday. I reflected on the year behind me, the one ahead, and the beauty of life itself. I thought it would hurt more that my parents weren’t a part of the day, but it didn’t. The only time I thought of them was when my sister called to sing me “Happy Birthday.” My mom used to sing it beautifully, too, and I felt a brief sadness. It passed quickly, but I also knew in the back of my mind that my parents were struggling that day.
Astrologically, Saturn is back in Pisces. It moved back into Pisces right on my birthday and will stay there until late February 2026. It’s here to make sure I’ve absorbed all the lessons from the past couple of years before it leaves Pisces for good. So, I want to make the right choices that are truly aligned with who I am. And the pressure to make the right ones is bringing back an anxiety I haven’t felt in quite some time.
And now, it’s almost time to go back to New York.
I feel the pressure mounting in my chest, telling me that discipline, routine, and consistency hold the answers. These three weeks have been so good for my soul. But now that I have momentum and some name recognition, it is my responsibility to keep going.
I’d be a fool not to.
So yes, I have a lot on my mind. And this is only a fraction of everything running through my head right now.
