Goodbye 2010s & Thank You for the Lessons
Looking back at the last decade and forward to the next ten years.
This has been a decade of hardship, separation, and pain. But it’s also the decade in which I achieved some of my greatest dreams. At the dawn of a new decade, I’m looking back in respect, in sadness, in awe, in gratitude.
[Trigger warning: Content includes topics of depression and suicide.]
2010
In late 2009, my partner and I moved in together after two years of on-again-off-again, struggling through his commitment phobia. Living together was a dream come true. I was looking forward to having a family, building our home together, and creating the little daily traditions that would become the foundation of our lives for the next several years.
Unfortunately, this happy beginning was very quickly marred for me when my father had a stroke in February, immediately followed by my parents’ bitter divorce.
And by summer, long past when I expected my partner would propose, I asked him about our future and was shocked when he told me he had changed his mind about getting married and having children. It was no longer a priority, he said. Maybe he’d be interested in ten or fifteen years.
I was 34 years old. I didn’t have ten or fifteen years to wait to have a kid. I didn’t know what to do.
2011
My dad’s health issues continued, as he moved from one assisted living facility to another. I tried to take my little nephews with me when I went to visit him because I couldn’t handle the pain I felt when I saw him and their presence helped distract me from that. He was struggling so much and I didn’t know how to help.
Meanwhile, early in the year, my partner and I hit a wall. Looking back, I see our relationship essentially ended there, though neither of us could acknowledge that yet.
My mother’s post-divorce rage was out of control and she took it out on me with daily phone calls that lasted for hours in which she’d rail about how my father and other family members had betrayed her. The emotional labor of enduring those phone calls was more than I could take and caused me to endure a severe crack in my mental health. I went on antidepressants for the third time in my life, but that didn’t stop me from coming all too close to committing suicide one night.
2012
My mental health was hanging by a thread. I was no longer speaking to my mother. She couldn’t stop talking about how much she hated my father and I was already so tortured by his physical suffering at the time that I couldn’t also handle my mother’s anger at him, which seemed to come out of nowhere. There had been no affair, no abuse…I couldn’t understand why she was so angry at him.
I developed a mysterious health problem that caused me constant pain. I could not eat or even drink because the pain was so bad and my tongue was so swollen. I was barely able to keep my job between the pain and my depression. I struggled with suicidal thoughts almost every day.
My partner and I experienced some ups and downs. I thought we could fix things if we stuck together.
2013
My father’s health improved substantially, which was a great relief. He met a woman at church and fell in love.
My mother and I reconciled and she pulled back, to some extent, on her vitriol about Dad. Sometimes.
My partner and I were largely going through the motions.
2014
My partner ran off with a young woman he met at work. I don’t know why, but I didn’t see it coming (though I should have). I was devastated in a way I had never been before. I came close to attempting suicide yet again.
2015
I lost my house — I couldn’t afford to stay after my partner left. My precious dog died, which broke my heart even worse than when my partner left. I got a new job and moved to a different town in a shitty neighborhood that was all I could afford.
That summer, I stumbled upon an owl in the woods and began seeking it out and observing it. It was the beginning of a new hobby that helped heal my soul.
This was a dark time in my life. All I did was work.
And write. For the first time in years, I received a download — a fully-formed scene involving a character I’d written a novel about when I was 26. I knew this scene was for a sequel to that novel and I stopped to write it down. It was the first time I had worked on my fiction since I had met my ex.
2016
I gained confidence in myself thanks to my job. This was the first year I felt like a strong, independent woman. I almost went on a couple of dates, but they didn’t work out.
I danced in front of my mirror in my underwear one night and stared at my body intently. Was it possible I wasn’t just a disgusting, old piece of garbage, despite the fact that my ex’s departure had made me feel that way? Maybe, I thought. Maybe I was more than he ever could have recognized.
I thought about what I had wanted when we were together — I wanted to buy a house and create a home for myself. I made an appointment to talk with a friend who was a mortgage counselor. She told me my finances were impeccably managed and that she’d help me figure out what to do.
And oh yeah — I turned 40! I had a Midsummer Night’s Dream party and I forced everyone to dress up like a fairy.
2017
In May, I encountered a baby owl for the first time. I watched it and its two siblings grow up that summer — a miraculous experience.
Incredibly, I also found myself in a title company office, signing my first set of mortgage papers. I’d bought a house all by myself. I moved in, feeling on top of the world.
But that December, my dad had a car accident, and my siblings and I had to face the fact that his health had rapidly declined in the past two years and we hadn’t noticed it until then. The year ended with another tumble into depression.
2018
Since my ex had left, I’d found myself surrounded by incredible friendships. I was able to pull myself out of the depression with their help and support.
Unfortunately, I developed a new mysterious health problem — more chronic pain and discomfort. I spent hundreds of dollars on scans and ultrasounds and the doctors found nothing. We hoped the symptoms would subside eventually…
I found peace, as always, in the woods, watching another baby owl grow up — a little girl I named Moony. She and I became very close, spending hours together every Friday and Saturday evening.
My father’s health problems continued to escalate.
I finally took a major step and quit my job in the fall, deciding to pursue freelancing. I just couldn’t handle my work load anymore, or the toll it was taking on my health.
My sister excitedly announced her sixth pregnancy in October. A month later, the excitement was gone when it was revealed the baby had massive heart defects. They were given the option to terminate the pregnancy, but they decided to have faith that the doctors could fix what was broken.
The year ended with my sister and her husband at the hospital, getting tests and scans while my mother, brother, and I rang in the new year with the other five kids.
2019
Family drama and financial failure marked the first third of the year for me. Everyone was overwhelmed with fear about the baby’s arrival. At the time, the doctors were afraid he would need immediate open-heart surgery.
Meanwhile, I couldn’t find a job, and had only had success selling one article. I was going through my savings account fast and starting to feel like a failure.
I began dreaming of a project in which I wanted to write about sexuality, but I was too scared to put my work out there.
In March, we had a wicked snowstorm that dropped almost three feet of snow on the ground and it didn’t melt for three weeks. My owls lost their babies (which meant a summer without feathered friends), and we spent most of that month at my mother’s house watching my sister’s oldest five children while Alex was in the NICU. It was bleak, cold, lonely, and so hard. But we had each other, at least.
The doctors found Alex to be a little miracle. He was able to come home three weeks after his birth, which was unexpected. Immediate surgery was not necessary, as his oxygen levels were high enough for him to go home, grow, and gain strength.
Though I’ve long ago gotten over baby fever, the moment I picked him up, I knew I was in love.
I built a fence around my garden that spring — something I’ve never done before — and as a result of mastering power tools, I felt invincible.
Spring and summer brought me a period of happiness I hadn’t experienced in years. I loved my life. I loved my house. I loved my garden. And I’d made it all. I’d created it all, without the help of a man. I was so proud.
With this newfound happiness came a surge of confidence. Someone encouraged me to try writing about sex on Medium…and you know what came of that.
Autumn brought challenges — discovering how much I’d stifled my sexuality, paying the price for that, seeing my Dad’s continued decline, and finally having to face the reality that, miracle or not, Alex was going to have to endure surgery soon. For the first time, his health problems became real to me in a way that opened up a huge chasm of fear inside me.
He is on his way to the hospital as I write this, for his next diagnostic procedure and once again, I’ll be ringing in the new year with my sister’s five older kids.
Looking back & looking forward
It was hard. It was beautiful. I’ll take all of it. I learned some lessons — mostly the hard way, as tends to happen with me. But I’m grateful for what I learned.
I’m mostly grateful for the inner strength I found. For my independence and all the things I have accomplished. I’ll never forget that in the 2010s, I:
- Paid off my student loans
- Bought a house all by myself
- Became a self-sufficient woman
- Achieved my dream of being a freelance writer (just barely…but dammit, I’m calling this one a success!)
- Found my sexuality again
- Finally learned to start prioritizing my mental health
- Deepened my existing friendships and made new friends who are the light of my life
- Experienced miraculous connections with the wild creatures of the woods
- Created some of my most favorite projects (books, poems, paintings, etc.)
- Took the first steps toward healing my broken family relationships
As I look ahead, I suppose similar circumstances await. Scary. Uncertain. Lonely. But triumphant. Daring. Exciting. Happy.
I am so grateful for what the last decade gave me, and in particular, this past year. I feel far more stable going into this new decade than I did going into the 2010s. I’m not only standing strong on my own two feet right now, but for the first time in my life, I know with all my heart that there are people out there who love and support me so much that they would hold me up in the moments when I cannot stand on my own.
What did I do to deserve that? I don’t know, but I do know I’m so lucky to have that. I am so blessed to enter the 2020s with that kind of strength.
May your next decade be just as blessed.
© Yael Wolfe 2020
