We’re Going ‘Back to Normal’ But We’re Different Now

It’s been a year. I don’t need to tell you this. Though we all have unique experiences, we have all been through a whole lot. A global pandemic. A racial reckoning. A contentious and terrifying lead up to a presidential election and an insurrection to boot. And that’s not digging into anything personal for any of us. That’s just on the national level. I’m not fully ready to process any of this. But I think it’s impossible to believe that any of us could be the same as we were in March 2020. How could we be?

When we were encouraged to stay inside our homes for months on end, many of us were also forced inside of our own heads. After the initial shock of sudden isolation wore off, after lots of walks around the neighborhood, frequent Zoom dates before Zoom fatigue set in, and far too much Netflix, there was nowhere else to go but inward.

I’ve always been a busy person. Juggling work, motherhood, a social life, and theater has always been a struggle. But I usually find I’m happiest when I’ve got multiple balls in the air. Being that busy all the time, however, never left much time for self reflection. Even when I was “stuck” in the house as a new, nursing mother, I didn’t have time to look within. The demands of motherhood were far louder than the call to self-evaluate.

Last year, I felt I had no choice but to look within. Since the train had come to a screeching halt, it was as good a time as any to stand up, take inventory, and have a good look around. And like so many others who feel like they woke up in 2020, I wasn’t at all satisfied by what I saw in the stillness. When work and commitments and life were just flying by in a blur, it was easier to ignore the cracks and the flaws. But they were glaringly obvious once I stopped and gave them my full attention.

I’ve explored a lot of these cracks on my blog. In fact, standing still and turning my attention inward is the reason why I started this blog in the first place. In all the busy-ness of life, and in the business of writing and editing in the service of my full-time job, I had forgotten that I was a writer. I had lost sight of the one solid way that I always had to express myself since the age of 6 (I have the diaries, journals and poetry books to prove it).

I’ve struggled with trusting my own voice and using it proudly and loudly. With people pleasing, with my own identity as a biracial person. I’ve ripped myself open, explored the reasons behind why I do what I do, and I’ve decided to make intentional changes in order to be the person I’ve chosen to be. I have been determined to learn all I can, trust in myself, and stop falling into old bad habits in destructive tendencies. I have done all of this mostly in isolation. And in so many ways, it was easier from the comfort of my own home with a schedule full of nothing.

Re-entering the World

It was painful to start living purposefully as this newer version of myself. It has taken a lot of practice, and I’m still learning and growing. But most of my practice has occurred through my writing. And as open and as vulnerable as I’ve tried to be, I’ve been safely hidden behind a screen. Now that I’m fully vaccinated against Covid-19, and now that restrictions are lifting, the pull to go “back to normal” — or at least back to a more normal version of life — is alluring. I want so badly to go back to doing the activities that used to bring me joy before the pandemic. I want to be busy again. One glance at my calendar this month reveals the busy-ness of a more recognizable life creeping back in.

But I’m hesitant and scared, if I’m being honest. I want to go “back to normal,” but I’m also painfully aware of the fact that I am not the same person that I was in the before times. I’m proud of that fact. I’m protective of this newer version of myself that I’ve worked so hard to uncover and set free. But I’m not entirely sure how this new me functions in her old roles.

Every new activity now feels like a rehearsal. I feel as though I’m trying on this new role in old, familiar settings and in old relationships. Every time I leave the house, it feels like an opportunity. I get the chance to interact with the world in a more purposeful, more intentional way. I now get to re-teach the people in my world who I am. That is exciting, and also really daunting and scary.

What’s scarier to me, though, is falling into old habits. Losing the progress I’ve made at home and behind the screen.

I have big dreams now. I have solid goals, and I have actionable plans in place to help me achieve them. I know what my priorities are and I know how valuable my time is. I know how much energy I expend in work, activities and people, and I know how much I have available to give before I need to tap out and turn inward with care. And most importantly of all, I know what I stand for, and what I will not stand for. I know when I need to speak up.

For all of these reasons (and more), I always hesitate to use the phrase “back to normal” without quotations. I want to go back to yoga, brunch, and theater. I don’t want to go back to just speeding along on the train of life without stopping to make sure I’m staying true to myself and staying focused on my larger goals. I want friends, fun and less fear. I don’t want to go back to taking on more than I can handle, and pleasing all the people that I can without stopping to check that I’m first and foremost pleasing myself.

“Back to normal” for me means introducing this newer version of myself to my old world. I will use every opportunity I have to practice being this person. I will take note of what fits and what doesn’t. And I’ll use this information to keep making intentional decisions for my life that feel authentic to the person I’ve worked so hard to be. I won’t ride the train aimlessly and unintentionally anymore. I’m only driving from on.

Going “back to normal” means that we get a shot at redefining what normal means to us. That’s the only “new normal” I can get onboard with.