a dash of ash

may 15 2023

“…it is inevitable that I will not be the same person that I was before this. But, rather than dwelling on that fact, I abandoned the ‘rearview’ outlook that I had grown far too comfortable with throughout the years, and began to look at things from the present and moving toward the future. I will be a different person, and I look forward to meeting her.”

In complete and utter honesty, I don’t even remember writing these words three years ago, but there is an extensive truth to it. I’m vastly impressed that my 18-year-old self was able to make that realization in such a tumultuous time. I look back at the person I was during this time, and I recognize her with a fond sense of nostalgia, but also a startling lack of familiarity at the same time. Growth is such a turbulent process, and it is without a doubt painful at times. But without the growing pains, it’s difficult to recognize the amount of growth one has experienced.

The Role of Control in Early-Life

If you look someone up on Wikipedia, there’s almost always a section on “Early-Life.” Now, I’m usually not in agreeance with the use of Wikipedia for reference, and I definitely am not in agreeance with the method they use to determine someone’s “Early-Life:” whatever may have happened in their life prior to stardom/fame. But, all of that aside, I like the phrase and I think some use could come from it. Rather than using “Early-Life” to determine everything that happened in one’s life prior to some type of major accomplishment, I’d like to use it to describe the period of a person’s life prior to a major phase of growth that they experienced and can clearly identify. I’m sure there’s a sophisticated word for this that I learned in my Introduction to Psychology class, but to tell you the truth: my memory is fatally unreliable.

Early life. I consider my early life to be anything that occurred prior to my moving across the country at 18 years old to attend a college where I knew a total of one person going into it. That in itself, I consider to be a major phase of growth. I still distinctly recall receiving a brochure in the mail for some type of “college-prep” school’s informational night. Having excelled in all of my studies, my parents were adamant that we went and at least heard what it was about. After the presenters at the informational night generously told parents that students could have the equivalent to an Associate’s Degree upon graduation, my parents did not need to hear anything else. They were sold. I, however, was not. As if the thought of earning an Associate’s Degree wasn’t intimidating enough for an eighth grader, going to this school would mean abandoning everything familiar to me and attending a school 40 minutes away from the high school I had grown up assuming I would attend. It should be noted that there was an entrance exam that every student had to pass along with a lottery based on how many students passed the test versus how many openings for your school district were available. It worked out that I didn’t even have to participate in a lottery based on this ratio, and after passing the entrance exam (which I absolutely do not remember taking in the slightest – completely blacked out of my memory), I was in. And I was devastated. As someone who likely grew up with untreated anxiety, the mere thought of a small change, the threat of a breach in routine, would send my mind flying. So imagine how I was taking this. My parents insisted that I at least try this new school, but gave me an out: if after three weeks I was miserable, I could transfer back to my old school district. I still had a choice. And because my parents pushed me while still allowing me to control the situation to a degree, I am where I am today.

Now, this is where the role of control comes into play within my early life. Looking back on this anecdote, it is very clear to me how this played out: I was anxious and panicking about a major change, I regained some control of the situation, I was able to handle it. Now obviously at the time, I would not have identified this series of events as part of a larger pattern, but it’s very clear to me now. After undergoing countless life changes, I have made the realization that in situations of high-stress or uncertainty, I utilize the control of whatever factors in or out of the situation within my reach to cope with my anxieties surrounding it. However, it’s vital to this discussion that the idea of control was simply a façade in my childhood, along with many others. Despite it seeming as though I maintained a degree of control in the aforementioned situation, I really didn’t. My parents gave me that control, just as they could have taken it away. I’ve stumbled upon the fact that any control I felt I had within my youth was all but a fabrication. But, what happens when no one is there to give you control? Do you take it? Or is that just a form of compensation for the fact that we really don’t have control in the real world?

Contrary to what the government tells us, we do not become adults through some automated, instant process that occurs on our eighteenth birthday, but rather, it occurs over time, as we experience a plethora of life-changing events (often occurring simultaneously). And the constant headache that the occurrence of these events ensues is that of the lack of control that surrounds them. When we are young, we are often shielded by those who care for us from feeling the brunt of major events, but once on our own, there is no one to downplay the severity of a situation, or provide a falsified remedy in the form of illusive control. That is not to say we are not supported, but there is no one there to provide the illusion that we are in control; we are left in the battlefield of life to fend for ourselves, feeling every one of those growing pains.

The Distinction Between Life-Changing Decisions and Life-Changing Happenings

A concept I’ve always found interesting is the requirement of informing your health insurance provider of a “Qualifying Life Event.” Usually these are things that determine a necessary change in coverage – having a child, getting married, etc. But we rarely ever seem to be able to inform and adjust our minds when we experience something life-changing – positive or negative. It often takes a while to properly alter our perception and understanding of life when one of these events takes place, but it’s vital to consider the distinction between those that we decide upon and those that simply happen to us. Within the past years I have encountered a seemingly countless amount of life-changing events, some that I decided upon, and others that I never would have fathomed.

The life-changing decisions that I have made were carefully calculated, meticulously taking in account every detail I could muster up. I decided to attend a university located a thousand miles away from almost everything familiar to me, only after I compared the offers I received from said school with the other schools that had accepted my application. I decided to stay in Florida following my graduation with my Bachelor’s degree, only after I had found both a job with an income I had determined liveable and an apartment that I had determined affordable based on that income. I decided to pursue my graduate degree, only after I had determined that I could both balance it with work, and afford it. These decisions occur almost as a domino effect, triggering one another to fall into place. Without making that very first decision to move to Florida for my education, my life would look entirely different. The pain of growing comes from knowing that the control we do hold can drastically alter our path of existence.

The life-changing happenings that have occurred over the past few years, I did not decide upon. I still vividly remember sitting my childhood bedroom, knowing I should have been in my dorm room, struggling to grasp at the fact that I was living through a pandemic. The whiteboard that once hung in my dorm room, now propped up against my wall behind my door held a dry-erase tally of how many days I had not gone outside. I reached 70. In that time, while pondering over many existential thoughts, I was able to learn a great deal about myself and my beliefs. While I reflect on this time with a twinge of resentment over so many lost souls and the hurtful divide it caused between people, I also hold a sense of regard for the amount of growth I experienced within this time. The pain of growing comes from the multi-directional pull of our thoughts when reflecting on these happenings.

Despite experiencing the collective despair and uncertainty that arguably all of humanity felt at some point during the pandemic, the most painful life-changing happening that I have experienced is that of loss. Throughout my youth I recall attending several funerals, some of family members that I had not yet had the opportunity to establish a close connection with, others of those whom my family knew and I did not, a few of those whom my family did not know well but were close to someone who was grieving them, and a few that I was actually quite upset by but hadn’t quite developed the emotional capacity to properly understand grief and loss. It wasn’t until my mom called me one night while I was in my dorm room with a sorority sister to let me know that the doctors at the hospital weren’t sure if my grandpa would make it through the night that I had even considered the thought of losing a loved one. It wasn’t until I had called my mom the following night after turning my phone on at an event and seeing a missed call from her, only to hear uncontrollable crying and “Grandpa’s gone” gasped between sobs, that I actually knew what it felt like to lose a loved one. It took me twenty years to truly feel what is arguably the most life-changing occurrence: loss. Despite the heartache and pain that comes along with loss, I consider myself fortunate that it took me this long to fathom this feeling – many people I know are not nearly as fortunate.

Coping with Growth

The phrase “life happens” is something used passively to dismiss small mistakes, or to downplay the severity of ones struggles to draw attention away from them. But it holds great truth, despite its casual use. Life often does happen, even within the decisions we make with what little control we have.

As a young adult, I often reflect on my youth and yearn for it. Everything seemed brighter, and easier. And the truth is, within our youth there is an ever-present illusion of control over life. My parents maintained their composure through what I’m sure were countless life-changing events, but never made the notion that we as children were ever to be affected by them. And what major decisions they made for me, they ensured that I felt as though I had contributed to that decision. And maybe, in a way, I did. But ultimately, my childhood consisted of the constant illusion of a life that could be controlled, fueling a brightness within the lack of uncertainty. As an adult, there is ever-looming uncertainty, leading to the yearn for that brightness and certainty I once felt.

Over the course of the last three years, I have experienced more life-changing events than I had in the entirety of my first 18 years. In fact, I have experienced these occurrences with such consistency, that for the past three years the pressures of these events have held a weight upon my chest. With the insight provided within this writing, I take a moment to breathe. My breath is slow and stable, staggering not the tiniest bit. I have learned to accept that there are life changing decisions that we can make, and life changing happenings that we cannot control. Adulthood holds a sense of grayness in comparison to the stark black and white of my childhood reality. But I am learning to navigate the grayness. For now, the growing pains have ceased.

Without the pain that we go through in times of growth, there is no opportunity for reflection at the end of it.

xoxo, Ash