SELFISH

Sometimes I feel selfish.

That’s because I am

I am selfish.

I left my parents and family. I get to watch their lives through snapchats.

I left my dog behind who slept with me every night.

Two years doesn’t feel like a long time until your dad has a little limp in his step.

Your high school best friend suddenly has a baby bump.

Your small town isn’t so small anymore.

Moving was a selfish decision but I got applauded for it. I was told it’s wonderful to be completely independent and how others wanted to do the exact same thing as me. They wanted to be selfish too.

When I take where I live for granted I try to remind myself of how I saw this place for the first time. So much possibility. There was something in the air, I swear. It was a newly found emotion. An emotion I found that felt like magic. A constant state of euphoria. Everything clicked for me. This is what living is supposed to feel like.

but...

What the travel influencers, nomad blogs & tiktoks don’t to tell you is, what comes after that first jump. When “life” hits you right between the eyes. What happens when everything is changing rapidly and you can’t keep up? How did hours of conversations on the couch turn into a five minute door frame lean? Why am I drinking wine inside every night to bury my thoughts? Where has the magic gone?

I’ve worked a plethora of jobs in the past two years. I went from doing photography full time which NEVER felt like a job to:

Child Care teacher, surf shop sales woman, ice cream scooper, construction PMA(???), golf course server, virtual assistant, etc. At one point three at a time, just to make rent.

You do what you gotta do.

It was all worth it because of one thing.

I got to live the dream.

But what really is “the dream”?

What happens when the dream changes?

My room is a current representation of my mental state. All of the drawers on the dresser are open. My outfits from the past three days are spilled on my floor. My mattress is also on the floor and before you say anything, yes.

I’m at peak comfort and my feet are rubbing together tucked away in bed.

I’ve had multiple versions of this blog written out but it hasn't been hitting for me. I went back to read all of my previous blog posts and PHEW! Was that a dark hole I wasn’t ready to go down. Not because what I wrote depresses me, mostly because the last blog I wrote was THREE months after I moved to Newport... I’ve been here for basically two years… how did I abandon it so fast?

To be completely, completely transparent, I’ve had an insane case of writers block. What. The. Fuck. It was so easy for me to write before. I liked to approach it like I’m talking to you in person. I picture myself in the little leather recliner chair and you’re across the room nodding and saying “Ah yes, but how does that make you feel?”.

It works.

My first blog was scary. With anything we create, we cringe at the idea of someone poking fun at us. I knew that if I were to make a blog, it was going to be super personal because that was the ONLY way I could do it. Lucky enough, this was the big reason my first post connected with so many of you. My blogs are driven by the craving to get my thoughts out. It's real. I wrote a few over time as an emotional outlet that I eventually shared with my aunt, who is an extraordinary writer.

The first thing she said was:

“you need to share this."

The second was:

“your grammar is horrible, but I’ll fix it.”

After that it was gravy.

I was constantly writing down my thoughts and feelings. At stop lights, at work, first thing in the morning, late at night. My notes app was very chaotic to say the least.

Then one day, it just stopped.

I talk about going ghost in my previous blogs and then promised to come back full swing. I just couldn’t. Maybe it was what I was going through at the time and basic life struggles, changes & advances. Writing seemed like a burden and when I’d get a burst of inspiration, I’d stare at my notes app with one sentence and then close it out. I had so many thoughts and feelings swirling around that I couldn't begin to start. Then came the self doubt. It’s still difficult to do now.

Recently though, I’ve been dying to share more again. SO...

Let’s just dive into it.

This is where I'm at right now.

You can’t stop the forces of the universe. Blah Blah. You can’t slow down a record that never stops spinning.

I felt “safe” in my hometown. A bubble. It was like a time capsule to my entire life. You see your third grade teacher at Walmart and they STILL remember you kinda vibe. I knew everyone and everyone knew me. I had the same friend group since high-school. I stayed in the same home for twenty two years. Birthday parties in the back yard, marks on the walls from my parents 30th anniversary decorations, Santa driving around the neighborhood on a fire truck Christmas morning handing out candy. The whole sha-bang.

When I was younger I didn’t truly appreciate the stability I was given. I looked at the same four walls every day and thought: “ oh my god, this is so boring.” I’ve always been one to want to ~spice~ up my life. A "by the books", traditional lifestyle was never in my plans. I never went away to college. The furthest I had been away from the nest was my week long trip to California in 2018. Even that wasn’t enough for this restless feeling I had deep inside. I needed more time.

When things changed for me, did they ever really “change?”

It will be almost two years since the biggest change of my life. In the time I’ve spent here I’ve struggled a lot with wanting to live in the nostalgia. I reminisced on the summer days in Virginia that I’d spend photographing before I moved here. How it felt like my business was taking off like a rocket. It was eat, sleep, breathe, photograph. Incredible. When I wasn’t photographing and getting business in Newport, I reminisced and wanted to go back. When it was the dead of winter in Rhode Island, I craved the Virginia heat.

Euphoric memories carry us through life and change frequently. Some of those we all consecutively share, like a classroom pizza party. The smell of the air in the morning of a field trip. Even sometimes thinking back to quarantine days gives me the same feeling. Some are unique experiences only to us, like the summer before I moved to Newport. Something was really in the air in 2020.

The past two years have definitely been a learning curve for me. The hardships that come along with “adult life”, yadda yadda. Not just talking taxes and rent.

Figuring yourself out.

When you’re used to living the same safe lifestyle in your hometown bubble, you quickly realize how fast things will change out of your control as soon as that little bubble is popped. It’s the kelly Clarkson song we all know and love.

“Grew up in a small town

And when the rain would fall down

I'd just stare out my window

Dreaming of what could be

And if I'd end up happy”

One day, a random Thursday, Miranda and I were told that we had to leave our cute little apartment when our lease was up. This was very devastating for the both of us. Miranda had three years of memories attached to it. I had just lived out the best year of my life there. It felt like I had unpacked my last box and then I had to do it all over again. I have to move my mattress down our winding endless stairs AGAIN?

Stress soon added to our sadness when we realized that we were struggling to find a place to move into. After the apartment tours, sketchy Craigslist ads and repeatedly saying “Something will come up!", our hope faded. What was available wasn’t affordable. What was affordable was off the market in an hour.

What started as a “lol we are going to be homeless” joke, became a real thought when couch surfing until summer was a top two idea and we had to be out in a month. We tried to live out the rest of our lease appreciating the short time we had left. When I looked around I saw so, so many incredible memories. Now everything is in a box again. The walls are plain.

Now, I live with three boys & Miranda in a beautiful apartment downtown. What a switch up am I right?

We got really lucky at the very last minute with this housing offer. It was a quick and rash decision but we had to do it. We didn't really have another choice. I went from an apartment so small I was able to see miranda in her room while sitting on my bed, to having a backyard with string lights draped around the steps. The beer pong table that took Miranda and I three months to make. The grill, which has served the best hotdogs to our friends during cookouts. A wooden fence that serves as privacy but also as the perfect stand for a big white bed sheet - Movie night the backyard in under ten minutes. The upstairs half which serves as its own private bar after hours.

The transition hasn’t been easy. Dynamics change. It’s been awhile since I drove past our old apartment. I used to do it frequently. I never gave it a proper goodbye. It still feels like if I was there, I would be able to relive the same moments from the past. Or, not lose the connection entirely to the memories that I will never be able to live out again. Brutal, I know. But hey, I live across the street from Ben and Jerry's now.

I never had a “big” family growing up. It has always been me, my parents & my sister. My dad worked out of town frequently so for a lot of the time, it was just the three of us girls. I love living with four other friends but I tend to feel alone these days. I've learned that even with a full house, you can still feel alone. Sometimes it’s because I want to be and still on those days I find myself getting into an hour long conversations with one of my roomies about SOMETHING. It’s nice. I like living with boys because they provide the best advice and entertainment. I live with a firefighter, rockstar & nurse. It's bound to be entertaining. Like, where is our reality show at? Our go-to bar is the one right across the street from the apartment, Smugglers. We used to meet up at that bar before we knew we would ever live together. So weird.

Before I left home, I had barely been on a first date. Now I’m on dating apps, making out with a stranger in the bar, meeting someone for a drink and then never talking again. I’m putting myself in situations that I wished before I only had the guts to do. Putting myself out of my comfort zone in ways that you can only do by moving to a state where nobody knows who you are. You have to. I'm privileged for this experience. The good, bad and ugly that I've came across along in my journey. It has shaped me in ways that are irreversible. I'm thankful for this growth.

My mom taught me how to be gentle & forgiving. When I struggled in my relationships with my sister, friends, boyfriends and even with her, there was no doubt she always took my side lol. BUT, it was so important to her that I knew all of the sides. I needed to put myself in their shoes and ask how I’d feel. Look at “the big picture” Ryleigh. Is this an end all problem? She was a huge advocate for stepping away from the phone and “thinking about it”. Just think about it.

Her favorite line to use was:

“Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me, fool me three times, shame on us."

The act of “forgiveness” wasn’t supposed to be used only on my loved ones. She enforced it with everyday routines.

The lady at Stop & Shop was a biotch to you for no reason? She’s having a bad day. Your day is still good and will continue to BE good.

A rumor is spreading around about you? Those people clearly aren’t happy. Your life is happy.

She always said that behind every bad behavior is a bad day, a bad life, a bad perception of reality. Someone is talking shit about you. OUCH, but what do you think is hurting within them internally to say that about you?

Your boyfriend can’t stay loyal? The feeling of needing constant reassurance from others must be a burden. I hope one day they know what inner fulfillment feels like.

How people treat you is a reflection of themselves.

It's their inner turmoil. It’s easy to fall into victim mode and cause a scene or give it back. Sometimes it feels like it’s deserved but is it necessary? No.

Trust me, I’m not justifying the shitty behavior of your ex, parent, or friend. What I’m saying is, why would you ever give extra energy to someone who doesn’t deserve it? That resentment weighs heavy. Forgive but never forget. You can forgive and never speak again. You can forgive and continue a beautiful relationship. You aren’t just forgiving them. You’re forgiving yourself and this should always be the first step you take.

“I forgive them for whatever internal suffering has caused this bad behavior. I am forgiving myself for being naive.”

Do good & Be good.

You can’t teach someone how to give it back.

Some characters in your story do not deserve a redemption arc.

I’ve met a lot of new “characters”. Those that were sent to challenge me, hurt me, love me, teach me, inspire me. I’ve made forever friends, the best friends. People that I’m shocked I went over twenty years not knowing existed. Crazy how you can live life so peacefully without someone to not knowing how you’d do life without them. The thought of living anywhere but Rhode Island is terrifying.This has been my home, my everything. I came here to chase a dream.

Major curve balls have been thrown at me this year but I'm re-routing back to the one thing I'm confident in. I'm finding my feet again. My future is photography. THE REAL DREAM.

You’re probably wondering where this leaves me. The answer to that is:

I don’t know.

I don’t know what I’m doing or who I am lol. I'm slowly figuring it out and then changing it again and again. But, isn’t that what your 20’s are for? Figuring out who you want to be and then completely rethinking everything. We all know what I need to be doing and where I need to be. I'm excited to get there, with you. I’m on a journey to get myself out of a funk.

Let's do this thing.

This post is kinda messy and it’s probably not serving ALL the tea you were looking for but,

I'm pretty positive I'm on the right track, are you?

Until the next time and not a year from now, I'll talk to you soon.

Your girl,

Ryleigh