Or, the story of why I cut my hair, changed my name and moved clear across the country.
If you’re uncomfortable where you are, move.
I’ve spewed those genuine words of wisdom at clients and colleagues and friends for years. Always with a lump in my throat. Always with a guilt chaser. Because I was horribly, unbelievably, undeniably uncomfortable where I was, and I hadn’t moved.
What follows is a hyper-condensed story of radical change and transformation. Things have been quiet here for the last two months because we move…in a most epic way.
Over the last 8 weeks, we drove 6500 miles with two four-year olds and all of our belongings in tow. We left South Central Alaska in early October and arrived at our new home in East Tennessee just in time for Thanksgiving. (After detouring here and there to visit family in Washington, Texas and Alabama).
This is all part of a huge transformation we’ve been wanting for…ever. The road trip was cathartic. The truck & camper became a chrysalis for us as we change from one kind of family into a totally different kind of family.
We’ve moved from a place of dreaming to a place of doing. We left our waiting place behind and emerged in our beautiful new living space. Angst has been replaced with ease. Anxiety has been washed away by calm.
A self-determined life is its own reward.
Of course, we know this move won’t cure all our ills. But it’s already given us a more stable, more connected and more joyful foundation to stand on while we take on life’s inevitable challenges.
We’ve left the Waiting Place
This move has ended almost 11 years in the waiting place for me. Eleven years. For six of those years, I had good company there after my husband also fell in love with this part of the world and joined me there. I’ve lived all over the world, but I’ve always felt a heart-connection to this corner of it. This is my heart’s home. I brought my husband here on our honeymoon, and he too fell in love with it instantly and completely. Maybe it’s the magic of the Smoky Mountains. Or maybe it’s because he loves me so deeply that he feels my heart when he breathes in the Smoky Mountain air. Either way, his heart moved here too. Which led to six years together in the waiting place. Always hoping. Always wishing. Always planning. Always yearning.
Now my heart is home.
I feel myself emerging from the chrysalis of eight weeks on the road. Every day we would get closer and closer to our heart. To our dream. Physically, tangibly closer. Every day. Throughout that journey, I started to feel a need for a more external representation of this transition. I chopped off almost all of my hair. Which was awesome and wonderful, but it wasn’t the permanent transformation I was yearning for.
Radical change begets radical change
As we drove and drove and drove all the way across this amazing country of ours, I kept thinking about my name. Which is weird ‘cuz, seriously, how often do we actually contemplate our names?
But the name was bugging me
After my first marriage ended so spectacularly, I reclaimed my maiden name as a solemn promise to never again lose myself to a relationship. I wore my name like a badge of independence as a single-working-student mom. So much so that when I (wholly unexpectedly) met and married the most wonderful man on Planet Earth, I kept my name. It meant everything to me. It was my identity. That precious thing I almost lost. More and more, as time went on, I started using his name too, with a hyphen. Not so much as a sense of identity. More so as a differentiator from the bajillion other Laura White’s in the world…many of which seem to have interesting, Google-loving histories as kleptos, pyros and embezzlers. And so I adopted the hyphen. It fit quite nicely.
Until it didn’t.
As we drove in our cross-country cocoon, I outgrew the hyphenated name. It started to feel all wrong. I am now absolutely, unabashedly confident that I will always be me in this relationship. In fact, my husband wouldn’t like it at all if I stopped being me. All of me. Rough edges and all. (Did I mention he’s the most wonderful man on the planet?) And so I’m dropping my maiden name and hyphen. But there’s more. Just as a cute, fuzzy little caterpillar emerges as a beautiful butterfly – I’m making another change in how I spell my much beloved first and middle names. This might seem like a tiny, insignificant, not-really-worth-the-hassle kinda change from the outside looking in. But to me, it is exactly the thing I need to make this epic, decade-long journey feel real and complete.
It’s a new beginning.
Laura Lee White, who you know as Laura White-Ritchie, has emerged from this journey as Larah Leigh Ritchie.I have to say that I am so incredibly lucky to have all of you here to share this with. To relate to my journey-each in your own way. To share my joy. I have so much gratitude it makes my heart want to burst.
What does all of this mean for BrainyFeet?
Whoa! Hold onto your socks folks! The year 2011 has been my epic year of transformation. The year 2012 will be yours.
I’d love to hear from you!
I don’t usually just write posts about me without somehow relating it to you. I’d love to hear about the transformations you’ve made (this year or otherwise) and how they’ve helped shape you and the world you want to create for yourself!