Hello from the other side?

I know that 2021 isn’t magically going to change the things we’ve been going through for the past 9-10 months but a fresh start always does feel good, even if it’s 100% theoretical.

In many ways this year did not deal me an exceptionally bad hand, and yet it still managed to completely knock me on my ass.

It started strong, with visits from friends and a nice long trip to New York that included a road trip to Virginia to see some of our favorite people. And then near the end of our trip, as we prepared to fly back, word of the virus went from nervous whispers to confirmed cases. We wiped our plane seats down with antibacterial wipes and made it home safely, hand sanitizer in our pockets.

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We pulled Sophie out of her wonderful Montessori preschool in March, only two months after she started. It stung because we had just gotten into a routine and she was loving it and I was finally not anxious about leaving her somewhere 3 half-days a week.

I stopped teaching at Pure Barre Palo Alto for what I thought was a temporary amount of time, not knowing at all that my last class at the studio would truly be my last class.

Rob’s entire company was told to work from home until further notice and we started dreaming about the possibility of moving back to Charlotte. It only took a few weeks, but it felt like years before his boss announced that they would be allowing some employees to transition to permanent remote positions, and I started packing almost immediately.

The entire transition took way longer than we expected, and living for months with the possibility of moving but no actual confirmation sent me into a really weird and negative headspace. Times of uncertainty and transition are always pretty hard for me, so I really struggled.

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Then I had a miscarriage.

We lay in bed for a few nights eating mint It’s-Its and watching Friends. People sent dinner.

Rob and I took Sophie to Monterey two times just to pick wildflowers. As homesick as I always was for the east coast, there is something so majestic and even healing in the face of the wild Pacific wind and waves. Seeing the coast always made me so happy to be in California. I stood on a cliff with Bixby Creek Bridge behind me, looked out at the ocean and breathed deep and thanked California for everything it had given us.

In that moment I felt completely broken and truly grateful at the same time.

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My hair started falling out. It was a little at first, and then a lot, and I realized pretty soon that my lifelong alopecia areata may be progressing into something more aggressive. When we get settled in Charlotte, I told myself, things will be easier.

It became a mantra, not just for my hair loss, but to get through the summer: heatwaves and a broken AC paired with landlords who did not care to fix a thing. When the wildfires came, the air was so smokey that we couldn’t open windows anymore and the inside of our house got up to 86 degrees every afternoon.

Things will be easier.

We gave our landlords notice, hired a realtor, booked movers, and planned a cross-country road trip. Ender went to a six week board and train program while we packed up our lives and purchased a house in Charlotte over FaceTime.

We drove to Half Moon Bay and sat in my aunt’s backyard with my family like we had so many times before, this time all at separate tables. We drank wine and ate one more meal together, saying goodbye with masks on and without being able to hug each other.

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One afternoon I felt a migraine coming on and took a just-in-case pregnancy test before popping my usual Excedrin. Two lines blinked back at me, California’s final gift to us before we left.

We packed up the dog and the toddler and drove across the country, masks on the dashboard and a box of snacks in the backseat. We ate a lot of fast food and slept in strange beds in every city. Some of the driving days were really long, but we got through it.

And now we’re back in Charlotte, still living through a pandemic but in a house that is ours, in the same time zone and within driving distance of so many friends and family that we hope we will only be able to see more of as the next few months go by.

If 2020 taught me anything, it’s that life can be terrible and wonderful at the same time. It’s beautiful and heartbreaking and stressful and joyful and totally worth it.

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Sending you all the light and love and rest and perseverance on this New Year’s Day, from me and Rob and Sophie and Ender and our baby boy on the way.

Every year I like to choose a word instead of making a New Year’s resolution, and I find that the openness of it helps me shape the coming months in a way that a list of specific goals doesn’t. If 2020 taught us anything, it’s that plans can change.

At the beginning of the year I declared growth, and in a lot of ways I did grow—we all did.

Out of our comfort zones.

Out of our routines.

Away from life as we knew it.

This year I am choosing refuge: rest, recovery, a shelter from the storm.

I hope that we can spend these next few months waiting out the rest of this pandemic, keeping ourselves and the world safe until we can reevaluate what life might look like from here on out. Like everyone else, I dream of the day we can all gather without worry and hug each other and sit at the bar of a crowded restaurant or go to a show without imagining the potential impact it may have on our health care workers and the availability of ICU beds.

The past nine months have been unlike any other. And so I choose refuge. To get the nice comforter, my favorite candles. To make time to stretch and read and pray and write. To re-watch that show again for the sixth time because it really makes you laugh. To look at my anxiety head on and say there’s really no room for you here anymore.

To recover and rest and wait for better days ahead. I know they are coming.

Happy New Year, everyone. I hope 2021 finds you safe and healthy and happy.

I can’t believe it’s been two months here in Charlotte—the time has flown by but sometimes it still feels like we have a lot of organizing and settling down to do. The road trip and Airbnbs and couple of weeks once we arrived before we closed on our place seem like a distant memory, and then sometimes I’m driving home from the grocery store and feel like I’m back on the road somewhere between Texas and Oklahoma City, anticipating life in the city we missed so much for the past four years.

• Moving on from unpacking boxes to finding places for prints and artwork on our bare walls.

• Taking a few classes a week on our new Peleton! COVID life has me nowhere near ready to re-join a gym anytime soon.

• Running to keep up with Sophie every morning and afternoon as she masters her balance bike.

• Decorating for the holidays and looking forward to a quiet Christmas at home.

• Walking Ender in our new neighborhood, trying to figure out what our new morning routine should be.

• Drinking lots of mochas, sometimes with peppermint.

What have you been up to lately? I am missing this space and having a creative outlet!