i’ve recently moved cities.
i’ve moved from the sunny, humid-year-round, and incredibly familiar city of brisbane, to the cool, crisp, creative city of melbourne. brisbane was the city of my childhood. i’ve lived there since i was twelve. it feels strange to have lived in one city for so long, but that’s for another piece.
18 years in one city. the poetry isn’t lost on me that 18 is the coming of age year in australia, and now that i have “come of age” in brisbane, i’ve found myself ready to go.
this change of place is one i remember from my childhood. the moving around, the changing house, the unfamiliar streets, the new restaurants and new parks to visit. but it is not one i have felt for some time. even as i moved in brisbane, i still knew the city as a whole.
it’s been a long time since i’ve felt a change like this.
one that uprooted my sense of familiarity.
and it’s made me reflect about how we view change. in our selves, and in others.
i say it’s been a long time since i’ve felt a change like this… yet at the same time, i’ve spent the last six years digging into all the parts of my life that need to be uprooted, gently coaxing myself out of the dirt, and finding the places to replant myself. if change was a second language, i’ve learned in fluently.
i could make a list of all the things i’ve uprooted from: a church, a marriage, a job, a relationship, another job, tinder (ha), friend circles, other friend circles, another job… but, at the same time, i’ve found friends i want to keep in my life forever, i’ve found a relationship that is full and delightful, i’ve found a sense of self that i never would have found without uprooting myself so many times, in all the ways i needed to.
and i’ve changed.
my god, have i fucking changed.
i’m not the woman i was at nineteen, trembling under a tree, saying words i wished i could spit out of my mouth immediately.
i’m not the woman i was when i let the man i worked for control my life, keep me silent, and keep me sweet.
i’m not the woman i was when i first made these tentative friendships 3 years ago, running on a soccer field for the first time in a long time.
i’m not the woman i was when i had my first crush on a woman (man that was a wild time, though).
i’m not the woman i was when i first moved in with my partner. even in these last two and a half years, i’ve found new parts of me, discovered new dreams, tore down old fences, and shifted.
and fucking thank god for all the ways we change, right?
do you remember when you were in high school, and you’d tell your friends you loved them? it would be like, “jas, you’re amazing, don’t change, i love you”.
don’t change don’t change don’t change
i’ve felt that chant, heard those words, and while as adults, we tend not to say those words the same, don’t we often still wish them?
when people say, or imply, ‘don’t change’ i think they mean: be exactly as i need you to be. be exactly like you are now. be no different.
be in the same place. be the same person. be the one i understand. be the one who is friends with this person. be in this relationship. be in this house. don’t move. don’t break. don’t change.
but i think we only look at the shallow sides of ourselves when we say don’t change. the show you both love to laugh at. the way you came over with a box of tissues and a chocolate bar when they had a sad day. the way you bonded over personality types. the way you sang along to taylor swift on late car drives. the house you lived in. the person you dated. easy. simple. shallow.
change is essential to any friendship. any relationship. any self.
for me, it’s shifted from: “i see you as you are now and i like you like that”
to: “i see you as you are now, all of who you are. and through all of the ways you’ll change, i’ll make space for the person you become.”
and maybe it won’t mean you’ll be friends forever. but there’s an acceptance to the change in a person still. the recognition that they won’t always be as you met them in this moment.
that’s kind of magic.
because television seasons end. bad days aren’t everyday. eventually, your bad days should mould into something new. you shift, you change. you see the ways personality types keep you in boxes of who you are in that moment. and you kind of want to be in bed by 8:30 PM so late night car drives are maybe a lower priority than they used to be.
none of these experiences we have of each other are permanent. the memories will last. but the people only will if you allow space. allow change.
for them.
and for you.
and this is my hope for you, friend… embrace the change. embrace the ways it shifts your bones and you want to cry out in pain as your body undergoes a metamorphosis. as you transform into something other. the change will hurt but it will bring you deeper. it will bring you higher. it will make you face yourself in the mirror, head on, and see all of you. the truth will bring you deep joy and deep contentment and deep sadness. who you are is complex and divine. allow your self to shift with time, to move, to grow, and to be the fullness of what each season invites you to be.
greet change like an old friend, greet change like a lover.
that’s my wish for you.
and that’s my wish for me, in this season, in this new city.
no more “don’t change”… instead, feel change on the winds. feel her kiss your cheek. and grab her hand as she leads you on.
As I read this I can’t help but think of the ever so known quote “the only constant is change.” Love reading your words <3 happy changes to you!