Before & After
Comparing August to August photos, there's no getting around that I look like a different person.
Dear Sundays,
A few days ago, I read an article stating the peak age of a person's unhappiness is 47.2. Measured throughout a lifetime, happiness is U-shaped. We are born at peak happiness and steadily decline into despair until we hit rock bottom at 47.2. Then bit by bit, we climb out of it until we don't give a shit about anything anymore. Or rather, we realize again what is essential to our happiness - which happens to be like five things in life.
I turned 47.2 in May of last year. I can attest that I was at peak despair. I would openly tell people that I was an "empty husk of a person" because I was so tired in my bones. I moved to Portland in 2019 for a fresh start, and five months into it, the pandemic hit. Instead of working as the City Arts Manager - the job I moved from Seattle for - I was deployed to oversee pandemic response programs instead. I have never worked so hard on anything for such an extended duration of time. It nearly depleted me. I took 8 months off afterwards.
This photo of me was taken in New York City on August 2, 2021 a few days after I left that job. It's not the most flattering picture or really one that I want people to see - but I love that person. Deeply. So much so that I pulled her from the brink of depression and started making huge changes. This wasn't surface-level work, where I made some lifestyle changes and called it a day. I deconstructed the narratives of who I told myself I was and began taking steps to figure out who I really was (and wanted to become).
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