Journal entries: March 19

March 19, 2020 — one year ago today

It’s been only a couple of days since a Shelter in Place order has been given to the Bay Area. The situation is this: my husband is still working, nothing has changed for me really, except I am going out into the world even less than I was before.

I am trying to find solace in my own shelter. We have spent a few nights outside watching the sky go grey, then dark. Last Sunday, my husband grilled burgers for us, while we listened to Ryan Adams, and I sat under the patio cover looking at the rain pour down.

It is humbling, it is sobering, it is beautiful, it is expected, it is necessary, it is happening.

I hope we come out of this for the better, I hope we come out of this stronger.

I hope we’re all realizing what really matters, and what really matters are the people we love and wish safe, and our own mental health which is now being tested.

I’ve realized in this self-quarantined time that I need time alone, away from work, yes, but mostly away from my identity as a wife, to write. I regret everyday that I am not writing, and every day that passes that I don’t reflect or look inward at what is happening inside.

When I die, I will die alone. I need to make peace with myself before then.

One thing that has been coming to light since this all began is how grateful I am, every single day, to not be a mother. Right now, it’s just the two of us and our quiet, sweet pets and I couldn’t ask for more.

Let’s imagine the worst case scenario. Everyone must be quarantined at home for the remainder of their lives.

How will we be aching to connect?

Right now I just want to let the world go. Instead, I want to swan dive into the stars, echoing out:

Is anyone here?

March 19, 2021 — today

It’s been more than a year now since the world shut down, and I’m finally seeing a bit of light at the end of the tunnel. My husband is fully vaccinated. I just got my first shot. I’m letting myself be excited about the Summer.

The things that happened, or unfolded, in the last year — death, retreat, loss — none of it really changed me. I still recognize that voice in last year’s journal entry. She was a woman who sat in acceptance and gratitude.

We all went inward this past year, and what it did for me was center me more firmly.

Five years ago today, my husband proposed to me on a hike in the Marin Headlands. I am dubbing March 19 the day of acceptance.

I never wanted to be a wife. I was resolved to spend my days alone in a trailer surrounded by books and mystical objects found in thrift stores. I was very lucky to find someone that makes me feel free and in love.

This past year sequestered in our home together was, for the most part, fun — like an adventure. I’m always hesitant to share that, because I know how hard it was for others, but I will never apologize for that.

I made a conscious choice to marry my husband. Before I made the final decision to not have children I read books like Reconceiving Women: Separating Motherhood from Female Identity and Regretting Motherhood: A Study, and more importantly, I talked about it a lot with my therapist. It is by far the most self-aware, conscious choice I have ever made for myself, and I can honestly say, the best choice I’ve ever made for myself.

Everything that brings me happiness and is a benefit to my life was born out of conscious choices.

Conscious choices don’t have to be hard to make. I quiet the voice. I consume information. I listen to the way my body reacts. I feel for my soul in the dark. I discover a reality that’s already unfolded. I always already know the answer.