It’s been a year.
Don’t get me wrong. There’s been a lot of good stuff this year— Lizzo! Greta! Turning VA blue! Baby Shark! Impeachment! But personally, 2019 kicked me in the teeth. And while I am looking forward to 2020, you can’t plan for the future without understanding the past. So even though I’d like to drop 2019 like 3rd period French, I guess I have to do this instead. Dammit.
Hi. My name is Eve, and in 2019 my chronic illness progressed, I had to leave my job of 13 years, I turned 50, forgot who I was & reinvented myself.
Can I take a nap now?
I’ve done enough therapy (because Jewish) to know that growth is always uncomfortable. But figuring out how 2019 got the upper hand has been pretty yucky, complete with tears, disbelief, anger and at least half of the other 8 stages of grief.
Remember the story of the frog who doesn’t realize it’s being slowly boiled to death until too late? What if you turn out to be the frog.
The most painful (and honest) realization of 2019 was admitting my own complacency, and that you can only change what you have control over. Which pisses me off to no end. Of course everything didn’t happen at once (see: frog) but it all came to a big, awkward, pointy head this year.
So here’s why 2019 can jump off a bridge. On fire. With bad hair.
First, I thought turning 50 would be the year’s biggest trauma. Because — oh my god, OLD. How the fuck did that sneak up on me? Yet watching friends survive this milestone eased the sting a bit, plus I can still pass for (very, very) late 30’s. Next.
Then I thought it would be my health. 10 years ago, I was diagnosed w/MS, and earlier in 2019, my neurologist blithely mentioned that the disease was progressing. Which sent me into a tailspin until I remembered that’s what a degenerative, chronic illness does. So after letting a little darkness in, I re-calibrated. Kiss my ass, MS. Again.
The last thing I expected to hit the fan in 2019 was my career. Which I guess is exactly why it did.
Over the last hmmhmm years, I’ve built a successful design career, growing in confidence, skill, and experience. Nearly 13 years ago, I joined a small agency that created digital experiences for non profits. And I found my home.
At the start, I was fearless. Call it naiveté, but even though I wasn’t officially “trained” in my field (like so many GenXers), I didn’t think there was anything I couldn’t figure out. Over my time there, I designed projects I will eternally be proud of, did some really out-of-the-box things and found that my co-workers became … family.
But somewhere along the way, that changed. I never thought that shifts in the market or the increasing speed of technology or the addition of new staff could negatively impact me after all those years. And then it did.
Naiveté, meet reality. (see again: frog).
When my time at this agency came to an end, I was still in shock. Then it hit me. I’d been given a huge gift. If I am being honest, I wasn’t happy there anymore. Because slowly, inexorably, I stopped being me.
From those ashes rose the first new, risky and exciting chance I’ve taken in ages, and Eve Simon Creative was born. I’m still feeling my way through the solopreneur world, but I am happier & more alive than ever. Go figure.
2019 may have been excruciating, but I will always remember it as the year that I found myself. When I didn’t even know I was missing.
Instead of resolutions, every December I pick a different inspirational word to guide me through the next 12 months. There’s no candy-coating my 2020 word: Badass.
So let’s try this again:
Hi. My name is Eve and I’m going to make 2020 my bitch.
Welcome home.
