Summer of 2013: What Could Possibly Go Wrong??

Five years ago, the Summer of 2013, was the most pivotal period of my life.  During this time, everything changed.  My spouse quite literally walked out the door on April Fools Day of that year, an act that was devastating to me in the moment but looking back was the catalyst for a change that I desperately needed to make. 

Before the summer of 2013, there was always a sense that something was missing.  My life was comfortable, but it was very generic.  I lived in a home that, while technically in Minneapolis, was less than a block away from not one, but two small, quiet suburbs.  I knew I was not straight, but there was no ethical way to live that out, other than surrounding myself with queer friends and involving myself in queer politics (spoiler: this wasn't enough).  Most of my free time was spent at the gym, on a quest to sculpt myself into the socially normative ideal of female beauty.  My evenings involved bad television, games of Yahtzee, and 10:00 on-the-dot bed times.  I lived with the knowledge that some of the people close to me were of the opinion that I was going to hell because their religion was not mine.  I didn't know how to get myself out of this cycle of monotony, and I thought that this was just how life was going to be forever.

When I was finally, involuntarily, released from that life, everything changed.  I spent that summer of 2013 doing some sort of cross between flailing around gasping for air, and finally feeling and finding myself.  I did things that even just a year prior I never would have expected or imagined would happen in my life.  I stayed out, even on weeknights, until 1:00, 2:00, even 3:00 in the morning.  This was not sustainable and slightly irresponsible, but it was a phase that I needed at that time.  I was, for the first time ever, truly my own person living my own life. 

I was nowhere near ready for or capable of a real relationship, but I had the best time experimenting with dating.  My confidence skyrocketed as I realized that I was a person who other people found attractive and wanted to date.  For the first time in my life, I dated women, and in doing so felt more authentically, freely "me" than ever before.  I learned that dating just to date, rather than in aspiration of a long-term relationship, can still be meaningful and impactful.

I met more people that summer than I have ever met in such a short span of time.  Some of these people became lifelong friends, and some of them were just friends for the season.  I learned that friends can be family, which made the loss of my closest family member feel less devastating. I spent so much time investing in friendships, developing inside jokes, creating traditions, and just plain having FUN.

For mostly the first time ever, I also traveled with friends.  Between April and September, I  took four separate trips with groups of friends.  I hope I never stop traveling with friends, as doing this creates strong relationships and some of the best lifetime memories that I have ever made. 

During the Summer of 2013, I also grieved hard.  I grieved for the things that this transition necessitated I leave behind.  My husband.  My house.  My in-laws (just kidding - I was fine with that part).  My (erroneous) sense of stability and security.  A couple of key people who I have never seen again and probably never will.  But I learned to grieve effectively.  I learned to trust the process, and that time really is the greatest healer.  The hard parts of the summer were just as vital to growth and transition as the fun parts.

My friends and I coined this time-frame "Summer of 2013: What Could Possibly Go Wrong?", or "Whakkapah" for short.  Even to this day, we sometimes joke that we might finally find out the answer to that question.  Although I'm no longer in this transitional, hugely social, particularly impactful, slightly irresponsible phase of life, I still carry it with me, because it's created the person I now am.  Without that summer five years ago, I would not have some of the most important people in my life.  I certainly wouldn't have been a good fit for Pete, my incredible now-partner, without that time of growth. 

Reflecting back now with five more years under my belt, I am realizing not just how quickly time passes, but also what a gift time really is.  We get to choose how and with whom we spend our time.  The choices I made in the Summer of 2013, intentionally or unintentionally, turned out to be some of the best I have made in my life.  They paved the way for incredible experiences, lifelong relationships, and a future that is incomprehensibly fuller and more authentic than the one I had previously imagined.