Not Waiting: How I Learned to Love My Detour

I’ve spent a lot of time “waiting” in my life.

As a kid I grew antsy with impatience, waiting until I was “older” to start dating, to go to the mall unsupervised, to learn how to drive. I was counting the days until I turned 18, giddy at the idea of college and independence at last. Two weeks after I turned 18, I was pulled into another realm where “waiting” took on an entirely new meaning.

When an unforeseen blood clot caused my body to go into septic shock, my life changed forever.

Now, it was my devoted family who waited patiently and lovingly while I recovered from a three-month coma. When I awoke, I waited many more months before I could take a breath of outside air again. I became extremely well-versed in patience — little did I know that I would have to wait eight more months before I would be discharged from ICU. Six years before I could drink a sip of water or eat a morsel of food and endure 27 surgeries before doctors could create a makeshift digestive system for me.

As a born go-getter, I’ve never been great with “patience.” I became extremely frustrated as doctors explained to me how “it would be a long road to recovery, but I’ll get there.” Healing physically and recovering my “self” emotionally, feeling my aliveness as well as being alive… I learned that this is a daily process, a life-long one.

Life will not always be perfect, and there’s no reason to wait until things are.

I had this fantasy that the day I was finally discharged from the hospital, everything would be “back to normal.” I would have my old body back, devoid of any medical scars, tubes, bags or IVs. I would be eating and drinking again. I would be able to run, jump and leap like I had in dance class just the week before my coma. The surgeries would just be a “blip” in my life, and now it could proceed as it was meant to.

But I learned something far better. I learned my life as I knew it had shattered, but I could reassemble the pieces differently, still beautifully like a mosaic. These “imperfect” shards of a life I longed to reclaim could create a work of art even greater, using the grout of experience and newfound wisdom.

I waited for the day I could finally eat again, which came after a 19-hour surgery requiring three shifts of nurses and doctors. I would be happy, normal, and finally feel like me again – eating waffles for breakfast. Eating food made me feel again, but it also made me remember, the things I didn’t want to remember, things that I thought a coma had permanently repressed.…like the hurt and confusion I had felt burning in my gut, but was too afraid to tell anyone about. Suddenly I was flooded with alarming memories of having been sexually abused by my voice teacher, also my godfather, for months before all this began. This huge role model in my life shattered my trust in an instant, plaguing me with anxiety that grew worse and worse until that stomach ache changed my world forever.

Although these raw, forgotten emotions were so overwhelming; for the first time, I realized I could feel. I decided that I would rather feel everything than nothing at all.

I felt myself start to materialize. It was then that I realized I had been waiting for what I had had within me all along – feeling.

Over a decade has passed since my life took an unexpected detour. It was a messy detour that put most of my anticipated life plans on hold, if not changing them completely. But this detour turned into the richest time in my life. To this day, I am still healing physically and emotionally. Every morning I make a new attempt to find who I am and to discover who I am becoming. If I had waited for life to be “perfect,” or at least for life to go back to “how it was,” I would have missed out on so many things. I would have never mounted my first solo art show after learning to paint in the hospital. I would have never written a one-woman musical about my life that I’ve performed for five years or given a TEDx Talk. If I had not had the audacity to set up an online dating profile for myself while still in my hospital gown, on IVs and recovering from a disastrous surgery, I would never have married the first love of my life. And when I was suddenly hit with a divorce less than a year later, I learned that there is never a reason to wait to fully love yourself.

I may not know where my detour is headed, and the road may be terrifying at times, but that’s OK.

Not “waiting” for life to happen can mean simply showing up and staying open to where the path may lead. Even with wounds that still haven’t healed and that’s not a metaphor – I’m on the road. If I’m willing to feel, I will always have my heart to guide me. Apparently you don’t need a stomach to survive, but, a heart is indispensable!

They say that all good things come to those who wait. But what for? Every day is an opportunity to learn, to grow and better myself. I love the imperfect twists and turns my life has taken, simply because they have made me who I am. It has been a mess, having life as I knew it shattered to pieces.

Bit by bit its reassembling. Different, imperfect, but beautiful all the same.