The past few months have been a whirlwind for me.
I have been in a season of transition, in case you missed it through my zillions of Instagrams. Though my heart thrives off of adventure and newness I have spent the entire summer dreading the idea of moving into my college house, and actually getting started on this phase of life.
So, here is the story and this is how it goes.
I enrolled, and got into Biola University. I did what I was supposed to do. I was on my way. College. Finally. One HUGE thing was being marked off of my looming cloud of a to-do list. I was satisfied, but I wasn't excited. Lots of tears. Lots and lots of tears. My vision and thought process were veeeery muddy.
Looking back now, I can clearly see my lack of effort on the process leading up to the culmination of it all. There was no zest or spark inside of me for the life I was going to create at Biola. I tried to be excited, I really did.
I had committed, and there was no going back. I started telling myself a string of lies to ease the anxiety:
i.e) "God is going to do such a work in me these next couple of years" and "this is where God wants me. I'm sure of it."
NOTE: There was something comforting about putting God into the equation that made me feel better. I know now that you can't manually weave God's will and your will together just to ease your mind.
Anyway, before I knew it, summer was over. My room at home was empty, and my little red bug was filled with boxes that served to represent my life. Transition in its most visible form. I was on my way. I should have been so excited, or maybe not, but that is what I wanted so badly to be... Instead, just more tears.
I kept joking with everyone saying things like, "it will be hard to be disappointed, because I have such a lack of expectation for this experience."
Ha ha ha ha.
Turns out the joke was on me. HUGE SHOCKER. I was disappointed. Severely. What tiny, little, baby expectations I had were not met, and I awoke immediately (or finally, I guess) to the fact that this path I had chosen was soooo incredibly wrong for me.
I felt like a fat kid being squeezed into a much too small turtleneck. Suffocated. Itchy. Gross. Like, everyone could see my fat rolls.
So, on Monday morning I ditched math class (out of sheer necessity, duh.) I needed to clear my mind, and what better class to skip? Convenient, but extremely practical.
I closed my eyes and imagined (as best I could from a non-bias standpoint) three years in La Mirada. My heart sank deep down deeeeeep. I knew I couldn't do it to myself.
I can do a lot, and I can endure a lot, but I don't strive to live my life out of a place that say, "I can endure this." I am weary of that expression. I want the best... the brightest... the happiest... the most full to overflowing experience that this life has to offer me.
Because of this yearning for life at large, it was hard to be honest with myself about the inevitability of the situation. I have a spirit that doesn't want to quit. Partially because in taking an honest look back at my life there have been many areas in which I feel like I HAVE quit. Repeating bad patterns isn't something I want to do.
In the end, you guessed it, I have decided to leave Biola.
Opinions on the matter will circulate, absolutely. To that I say, let them circulate!!!
This decision does not need an explanation, and I don't feel like I owe one to anyone. I am writing this because this thing that I have been going through - this stretching of the heart to do the right thing for my sensibilities - needs to be shared.
I know for a concrete fact that I am not the only one who has been in a place where I didn't feel true. So here I am. Writing again. Longwinded as ever. Celebrating this incredible human experience that has been so humbling, and simultaneously empowering.
In making the decision to leave Biola, I have also made the decision that I will not be going home. This is crucial for my growth during this time period. Perhaps the only truth about this moment is that I am highly uncertain of where I will end up. I have no plan, but I'm not scared of wandering for a little while. I will be resuming school at a different university that better suits me in the fall or spring of this next year. Regardless, it is my belief that going home would be back peddling. I want to wander... no, I NEED to wander. In order to feel fully alive and genuine again. I need to feel a little scared of where I will end up next.
I have decided that I like this version of myself. I thoroughly enjoy the Hannah who stepped out onto the very edge of a situation that didn't suit her and boldly took action.
Life is too long to spend three years in a place that doesn't make me feel alive. The way I see it there were two options:
Live life the way others tell you you should. Do the things on the to-do list that someone else lays in front of you. If it fills you with life and makes you feel wonderful, do it. No shame in that. If not, explore option two.
Live life the way you were made to live it. Find out what makes you, you. Those things that you were born with that you cannot change, they are for your benefit. Follow them to the edge of the world. Screw the expectation, the comfort, the to-do list. Live abundantly out of who you were made to be.
Though it's terrifying and uncertain, I am obviously partial to option number two. Probably because, more than anything else, it is liberating. It offers a life that is different from the norm.
My spiel is coming to an end, but before I go here are some bullet points and things that are important to note:
This is my life before it is anyone else's.
The decision to leave was not made out of weakness, it was made out of strength and empowerment. Leaving was brave.
I am learning to create a life and make decisions based on the sensibilities that are uniquely mine and no one else's.
This is the beginning, NOT the end.
No matter where I end up, I will live in golden hues. This is my promise. My one resounding joy.
I don't know where I am going next, but I'll be sure to let you know when I get there,