(Still) Doing My Best, Okay?

I need to do a restructuring of my dresser. I used to have my black no-show socks lined up and ready to go with my AT&T maid outfit so I could show off my fresh Nikes without socks peeking through, wearing ankle pants so the dye from my jeans didn’t transfer onto my shoes.

I still have my sneakers, but I care less about them now. I’ve donated a lot of the jeans I used to wear religiously every week.

And just as my dresser is going through a restructuring, so is my life.

A while ago, my partner expressed confusion about why we would continue paying rent at an apartment when they own a house. And with that, we decided to move in together after my lease is up.

I initially scoffed at Sanny’s idea to break my lease, but I’ve grown more understanding of it.

Spending more time at the house and cultivating a life together, I’m starting to feel like a transient in my own apartment. It’s still gorgeous, the vibes are still great, don’t get me wrong, but it’s no longer where my energy is. I’ve started placing more of that energy in The Ohmstead, deciding which room will be our bedroom, where we’ll hang the hammock, and how we’ll arrange the furniture.

It’s strange to me. I used to live with my dad, sleeping on a futon, stuffing all my belongings into a tiny closet before I left for work each day.

I spent a lot of time, really, shrinking myself to fit in someone else’s space. I assume that’s why I so fiercely protect my space now.

I dreamed of having my own apartment in a walkable community, with stores right downstairs, but I didn’t see it as an attainable goal. Now that I’ve accomplished it, I can’t believe what once felt impossible wasn’t impossible at all. Not only did I get it, I’ve surpassed it. That apartment, at one point, was the ceiling. Now I see it as a launch pad.

I wanted to be a city girl, living single as the rich auntie living in my posh apartment, but now I found a big girl relationship, and I’m ready to get TF out the city.

Those changes in my life have forced me to rearrange my goals because what I want my life to look like has changed for me. What I value has changed.

I have no desire to climb the corporate ladder, simply because I don’t give a fuck.

I spent years building connections at AT&T, grinning and bearing the performative dog-and-pony show, only to get laid off anyway.

So now, what do those connections mean to me? Nothing.

My current job exists within a very specific context of getting out of the boiling pot of unemployment. That’s it. I don’t intend to stay long term.

With that in mind, and recognizing how pointless contrived connections are, I don’t even attempt to foster them at this job. It’s a waste of both my time and theirs.

My ultimate goal is not to hit KPIs. I don’t care about maintaining dashboard hygiene or executing on whatever other trivial directive gets handed down from a CEO trying to appease stakeholders, both so far removed from the day-to-day that they couldn’t achieve the goals they set themselves.

I’d rather be hosting retreats, encouraging introspective thought through intersubjective conversation, where growth comes from listening to and challenging each other. I want to create space for healing and understanding.

So now I’m in this in-between phase, where I realize that at some point, I have to stop whining about the life I desire and actually do something to build it. But that starts with movement, and that movement requires energy, which I just don’t have.


Like, seriously, it takes everything out of me to respond to a text. I have trouble getting out of bed.

I’m sure that the way forward is to first figure out a destination.
 What can I do immediately to work towards my goal? What is my goal?

My therapist has basically become a life coach at this point, helping me figure out where I'm actually trying to go.



My new psychiatrist adjusted my medication because my mood is quote: “all over the place”. And she’s right.

Lately I’ve been trying to figure out what makes me happy these days. I spoke to Sanny about how I was depressed because the things that made me happy in the past don’t move me anymore.

And maybe that's what this entire season is teaching me.

I spend so much time demanding growth from myself that I forget growth is already happening.

I’m not a millionaire (yet), but I got over my fear of big dogs and ended up loving them.

I don’t own multiple properties (yet), but I (kinda) got over my fear of birds. I have chickens! If you really know me, you'd understand how ridiculous that sentence is.

THAT is growth. It’s not how I thought it should look, but it’s growth nonetheless.

I’m realizing that the truth is my life keeps evolving faster than my ability to give myself credit for it.

My dresser needs restructuring because the person who organized it no longer exists.

The apartment no longer represents what it used to.

Those career goals no longer fit.

My dreams have changed.

Priorities have changed.

I have changed.

And maybe that's okay.

Actually, maybe that's the whole point. Taylor needs to stop being so hard on herself.

Enjoy the ride.

Enjoy every version.

Love every iteration.

And trust that becoming is still happening, even when I’m too busy being hard on myself to see it. (But we gon cut that out too, promise.)