Today I moved

I crashed today. As I sat on the side of the road looking at my bend up rear brake peg trying to figure out who to call, I couldn’t help but enjoy the sunshine. I finally called a mobile bike shop before getting comfortable to text a couple friends. The intent was to keep the crash my little secret. I learned that when one is sitting on the side of the road waiting for the rescue chariot to arrive, someone I know will inevitably recognize me and stop. As embarrassing as it was to admit I crashed, the opportunity to talk to him about what caused it was invaluable. After that it was easy to tell a couple of other biker friends. The really awesome part? The caring and support that came as a result of me admitting what happened. In the half hour I waited, the people I told checked on me repeatedly. I am fine. My bike is fine.

I moved today. For the past six months, I have been living with a friend and her family.  They welcomed me into their home and treated me as if I was part of the family. It was just what I needed for a while. I needed people around me as I transitioned into a life on my own. A life where I am the weekend parent. A divorced woman. A life alone. Yesterday, the rains came and with it tears. No riding for me. Instead, it was the perfect day to go check out my new apartment. I sat in the empty room and felt peace even as the tears were falling. Today, I moved my few belongings into my new space. Clothes, a few kitchen items, some pictures, and the air mattress I bought earlier in the day. Three trips in a car with very little room.

Slowly, my space is becoming me. The bathroom holds my toiletries. In the closet hang my clothes. The kitchen contains Grandma Robertson’s pots and pans from long ago. The living room still awaits a place to sit. My bedroom slowly evolves into my go to space. I have a bed, albeit an air mattress. But my air mattress. My speakers provide music to dance to. (And I get to play it loud because the landlord is rarely here.) My running medals hang on the wall reminding me that I can do what I once thought was impossible.

I am at peace in a way I haven’t been in the past 18 months. I am going to be okay. I can and will do it on my own. At the same time, I am learning to open up to those around me and accept the support and caring they show whether I crash my bike or need to reach out and ask, “Hey, I am feeling a bit lonely today. Care to hang out?” The journey of self-discovery continues.