Being a fish out of water
I’ve been looking at my vision board a lot. I’m not sure if that’s part of how it works…if you have to really think about the things you’re trying to manifest in order to bring them about. But just in case it is, I’ve been staring at all the things I wanted for myself on January 1st and thinking about them and even trying to speak them aloud. Strangely (or not? I don’t know how this works, ha ha) I can already feel some progress shimmering around me where a couple of my visions are concerned. But one little cluster of my collage remains frustratingly stagnate in real life.
I’ve mentioned it a few times here but my husband, my daughters, our corgi, and I moved out of NYC to a neighboring town two years ago. It was a seriously difficult move. I spent 13 years falling in love with New York over and over again (and alternately complaining about it, as one does) and it felt like I boarded a train to opposite land the first morning I woke up in our home.
One particularly painful aspect of leaving the city we loved was losing our community. We made some dear friends there and while we’ve obviously stayed friends (we’re only an hour away), spontaneous hangouts are pretty impossible. Building a community in our new town was something I worried about a lot before we relocated and it’s proven to be the most difficult aspect of this move. Namely because I suck at being a fish out of water.
The odd thing is, I am an extrovert. In a room full of strangers I’m generally comfortable and can talk to nearly anyone. BUT throw any urgency whatsoever into the mix—say trying to find a new best friend or two—and I’m toast. I’m an instant hermit crab.
My sisters are both superheroes in my eyes when it comes to surviving fish-out-of-water-scenarios. My little sister moved from Chicago to a big city thousands of miles away a few years ago. We’ve spoken endlessly about the difficulty of cultivating a new community as an adult and yet she’s done it. I’ve asked her many times how she did it and her sage response has been, “It was uncomfortable but I just kept going to stuff and eventually it clicked and it took a lot of time.” She showed up at a book club where she knew no one and now those women are friends. She showed up to PTA events, and block parties, and birthdays where she knew no one and she’s got a gaggle of fun friends to show for it. She’s enjoying the fruits of her consistent willingness to be uncomfortable.
My older sister lived in a country halfway across the world for eight years. From the food to the language to the way people dressed and how they move through the world, not a thing resembles the States there. And yet she stayed in the mix, learning the language and learning the right and wrong things to do. She built deep friendships and learned life-altering lessons during her time abroad. All because she embraced being a fish out of water.
In general, I am not someone who runs from difficulty. I’ve worked hard to be the type who digs in rather than bails out. But there’s something about making new friends that flips that discomfort switch just a little too far. Perhaps it’s the personal-ness of it. It’s the feeling of being judged too quickly, not having enough time to show all the good you bring to the table and losing the window of opportunity. It’s the pressure of it all.
Looking back, I’ve had so many moments where I was a fish out of water and the way I made it through was to search for the levity in the situation. I’ll never forget the first time I had dinner with my husband’s family. I was incredibly nervous. His whole family are New York natives, Brooklyn born from the grandparents down. And let me tell you….they can talk. When we sat down to eat, you’d have thought there were 20 people in the room (in reality there were 6 counting me). They spoke so loud and so fast I felt like my head would spin off my shoulders. I’m fairly certain I said nothing for a solid 20 minutes before I burst out laughing. We had a good chuckle about the fact that between the accents and the overlapping conversations I was completely lost as to what we were talking about. And in that laughter we found all we needed to relate. And for what it’s worth, I can keep up with them any day now.
Armed with the idea that the key to my situation might just be a combo of consistency and finding the levity in those uncomfortable moments as I find my friendship footing here, I recently got to put both to the test at the ultimate parental pressure cooker—a kid’s birthday party where I knew no one.
For the uninitiated among us, let me paint the picture for you. These parties are generally chaotic. The kids are happy and sugar high and do not want to be around you whatsoever. And so you stand and watch them have a blast. There is no alcohol and usually no food for you. If you’re one of the unlucky parents who knows no one, you spend your time scanning the clusters of couples or groups of pre-introduced parents hoping you can remember literally any one’s name or which kid belongs to them at the very least. Despite the fact that I wanted to very much become one with the walls, I put on my big girl pants and pushed myself. I kept a smile on my face, I approached multiple closed circles to say hello, and I secretly keep an iPhone note listing the names of every person I’d met and who their kid was for future me. It was stressful but I kept it light and kept up the chat and I left with a handful of new people to say hello to in the halls at daycare. It’s not a best friend meet-cute but it’s a step.
I’m hoping this newsletter resonates for some of you who may be feeling like fish on dry land right now. I think in any complex endeavor we’re bound to find ourselves wondering why it’s easier for other people. But I’ve found what I’m seeing in others isn’t ease—it’s time, it’s bravery, it’s consistency, it’s a commitment to the humor of it all. So I’m going to keep staring at my vision board and awkwardly saying hi at parties. Here’s hoping the swimming gets easier from here.
Still thinking about…
Didn't expect a mirror from this popular handbag brand but I want it
Googled “fabulist” when I saw it as a descriptor for the author of this book which instantly went on my TBR list
Absolutely do not in any way need another olive green jacket but I’ll probably buy this one anyway
Had the best chicken salad sandwich of my life at this gorgeous coffee spot and can’t wait to go back
Where are we buying pajamas these days? I feel like I’ve yet to find my fave pair but tempted to try these.