DON'T WISH ME WELL

 June 21st, 2026

I intended to write a lot more than I ended up doing this weekend.

Perhaps it was Juneteenth, and then the beach, and then the grad party I had on Saturday, and the food festival I went to following that. 

The sun was setting when I drove home. I dropped off my friend, and I started playing Solange and reminiscing about how tomorrow would be the first Monday in eighteen months where I didn't walk into that same familiar environment. I was now truly reflecting on a bygone era. 

Tomorrow, when I wake up, it'll be a new page being written. The contents of said page? I'm not entirely sure (yet). I wrote out a list of aphorisms to go by on a flashcard yesterday. I tucked it into a small red moleskine that I have in my purse. I think I'll read it on the train tomorrow. 

I had coffee with a friend today, among other things, I vented about the last eighteen months. Every time I do that, I shock myself. I think of what I endured and wonder if there's anything I could've done differently. I always ask myself that question, but seriously - I think I am at peace with where I am leaving off. It's by no means a perfect place, but it is a peaceful one. That's enough for enough. 

I spent this weekend trying on clothes, and shoes, and belts, and so on. The things that women often do. The things I never enjoyed doing growing up, and still feel awkward doing now. That being said, I did it anyway, and thought I was getting somewhere. I have an outfit for tomorrow and the day after, that's about as far out as I can see. I used to clock myself in black to avoid being seen, and now, I'm daring to draw attention to myself, and as daunting as that is, it's a sign that a change is not only on the horizon, but I am around to usher it in, instead of reacting to it merely. 

I was in the shower when the thought came to mind: 

be wary of stepping into someone else's shoes. 

Such a layered thought must be coming from a divine place. I guess if I were to dissect it, I'd go back to eighteen months ago. Where I felt it would be better if I were someone else entirely. If I had a different name, a different birth place, a different temperament, and a different upbringing. If I hadn't been forged by shame, and grief, and so on. I suppose that's all humans to some extent, but I didn't want to be who I was. I didn't for a long time, and still now, am working on accepting that reality. It's tempting to look back and want to "balance" those scales (Libra 2H). To do a do-over where I orchestrate the beginning I wanted and felt I deserved eighteen months ago. If I am honest, I think my brain almost wants it bad enough to reinvent myself to do it. However, I am heeding the divine warning, and resisting the urge to inherit someone else's destiny to achieve that "correction" - glamorous as those shoes may look, they simply do not fit me, and it would be a mistake to try and wear them to finally feel seen, and respected, and valued. It's the equivalent on gnawing on my own tail as punishment, because, when you're repeated hurt, and no one seems to care, who else can you take it out on, but yourself?

I am hurt, I am working through it, but the important thing is that I made the best of a hurtful situation. I turned it into a peaceful one, and my mind hasn't been this clear in some time. 

I always have the resources to solve my problems, and that is the biggest luxury there is. 

It's late, and I have a big morning ahead of me, and so I am fighting off the melatonin-induced heavy eyelids. This is going to be a summer to remember, Jupiter is in Cancer and all will be well. All is well. 

- vetiveroil