It Takes A Year

First of all, this is my 99th blog post! And it’s perfectly timed with where I am now.

A year ago, I was getting past a difficult relationship that involved mistrust, lying, and cheating. I had been on a roller coaster relationship with someone who didn’t treat me with love. The relationship helped me get my blog rolling and helped me process so much of my own insecurity (as well as causing me added insecurity; go figure). Then, over the course of the past year, I tried my hand a final time swiping left with Tinder and decided to delete all of my online dating apps. Writing that post really held me accountable and I made myself available to dating in real life. I remember, literally three days after publishing that post, meeting someone through a friend. It was exactly what I needed to remind myself that I was dateable. (Honestly, after the prior relationship, I had my doubts.) And, now it’s been a year since that post came out and I see how everything has changed.

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One of my close friends has had a whirlwind year. He’s recently changed jobs and gone back to his old position with a bigger paycheck and better territory. But that’s only the tip of the iceberg for him. His marriage had been on the rocks, and then it finally crumbled. Prior to the crumbling, there were instances of infidelity. It caught up to him and he moved out and in to various apartments, assessed legal fees, underwent personal counseling, and had a surprise reconciliation with his wife. Nobody could believe the transitions of the couple, from the depths of their problems to the heights of newfound trust and better communication.

All it took was a year.

Ubiquitously, we tend to reflect in December or at major intersections in our lives. Then, commonly, we set New Year’s resolutions and intentions in January.

We all know how abruptly everything can change. And when we want change so desperately, nothing moves the needle. We have to live through the pain or discomfort until we learn or are ready for something different, something better. That year feels like an eternity. Each day might also feel like it drags you through hell, with loneliness, anger, contempt, boredom, or impatience.

Something temporary can drag into 25 years. Moving to that little town with your fiancee might seem romantic at first, and then a couple of years and children later, you’re stuck in the middle of nowhere, reminiscing. Or, what about accepting that Temp position in Accounting because it pays the bills, even when you know you’d rather start your own jewelry company and sell on Etsy and at craft fairs? You know that next year you’ll be in a different position, you’ll really be there and ready to start.

A year.

It’s slow and fast all at the same time. And it feels like the years and months and days shorten as we get older. As our friends have children, we witness the kids’ growth and spend less time with our friends. We also have wonderful, joyous experiences of our own that pass too quickly. We get engaged, we move-in, we get a raise, we commit to an exercise program and see major health gains. We breakup with people who are toxic. We quit our corporate jobs after saving enough money and feel so proud of ourselves. We find resolution. We seek revolution.

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In a year, my life has changed so much.

My Life Coaching practice has grown. I hosted a Popup Brunch (and will have more!). My cat died. I’ve gotten a boyfriend. I’ve moved. I got an annual pass for Disneyland. My mindset shifted drastically and I started loving myself much more.

In a year, my life has also stayed the same.

I didn’t meet my boyfriend online dating. I am still working on starting my nut butter business (and now have a plan! Yay!). My emotional themes remain the same, but I’m better equipped to handle them. I still practice yoga, swim, exercise hard. My friends and I still cook dinner parties. There’s a lot of the same tedium that makes life, life.

I strongly believe it takes a year. For what? For most things to resolve. It takes a year for a new relationship to feel solid. Why? To weather all seasons, to go through it all together. It takes a year of living in a new place to stop feeling like a new place. It becomes more familiar, more comfortable. It takes a year for the newness to dull, but it’s also smooth from wear. The kinks get ironed out. The grief isn’t usually quite as biting. You have more laughable moments and “material” to joke about. You feel better.

Tell me about your year. And see you soon for my 100th blog post!

XO,

Nina

I’m a Life Coach and you can visit me at www.coachingbyninarubin.com. I work with people who desperately need change but don’t know where to find it.

I found the above image at earthspacecircle.