October, 1995

Summary

In October 1995, a young woman transitioned to independent living after being released from a girls' shelter on her 18th birthday, facing the world with uncertainty but also a sense of liberation and hope.

Abstract

On the morning of her 18th birthday, the author was released from a girls' shelter run by the state and Catholic nuns. Having been homeless and with no family to support her, she found herself alone on a sunny Saturday morning, with the symbolic changing of the seasons reflecting her own transition into adulthood. Despite the absence of friends or family at this pivotal moment, she felt a sense of freedom in not being defined by her past. A compassionate counselor from the shelter provided her with practical and emotional support, helping her move into her new apartment filled with second-hand items. The author acknowledges the mix of emotions she experienced, from relief and gratitude to the overwhelming sense of the unknown. She started her life anew, with a cautious optimism for the future.

Opinions

The author views her transition to adulthood as both daunting and liberating, emphasizing the duality of fear and excitement that comes with newfound independence.
There is a deep appreciation expressed for the counselor's support, which was crucial during the author's move to her own apartment and provided a sense of stability and care.
The author reflects on the absence of her past as a positive aspect, allowing her to shape her future without the constraints or expectations of others.
The act of receiving donated items for her new home is seen as a significant gesture of kindness that made a tangible difference in her life.
The author's decision to participate in a 30-day writing challenge suggests a commitment to personal growth and a desire to overcome past struggles through self-expression.

day 5

*1995: I was homeless and it was spring. I had a few friends who had let me stay with them, so not every night was spent on the street. I was a minor, and by mid-summer, I was placed in a girls’ shelter that was run by an odd combination of the state and catholic nuns. I was released in October, on the morning of my 18th birthday.

I woke that morning to my already packed bags. It was surreal as I said good bye to the other girls. I had become the older sister of the group even though we had only lived together a few months. In the main office, I quite literally had to sign myself out. When I walked out beyond the heavy wooden front doors, I was never more unsure of anything. I had no idea what was next.

It was a sunny Saturday morning that day. Traces of summer still lingered even though you needed a jacket and Halloween was just a few days away. The trees had started to let go of their gold and red leaves. It was the kind of fall day where it’s warm in the sun but cold in the shade; breezy and bright.

I had no family. My friends were all heading off to expensive colleges. Not one person that knew me came that day. It was liberating though. By not having the past watch me walk into my future, I could just *be*.

My circumstances were a bit different than the other shelter residents, and because of this, one of the counselors went out of her way for me during the last few weeks of my stay.

She was there for me that morning. In her blue mini van on her day off, an hour from her home and her own family. I opened the car door as she smiled at me. I was relieved that she wasn’t overly emotional and I know she felt the same way about me.

I had found an apartment the month before. She had spent the last couple weeks helping me fill it with items we found at second-hand stores. As we drove away, she motioned to the back of the van, pointing out a few boxes. In the boxes were items she bought for me, and even a few from her own home.

She was always quiet and I liked the comfortable silence that we shared. It was nice because I didn’t feel pressured to talk with her. Now, as she placed the boxes on the table, she gave me her phone number and I thanked her as we hugged good bye. She hesitated and looked at me a little longer than usual before she left.

I closed the door behind her and walked over to my Goodwill couch and sat down. And cried. I didn’t know what to do next. There was so much free space ahead of me. I didn’t call any of my friends — everyone was either in class or far away on a campus somewhere.

I took the Detroit Ave bus to the grocery store and then went to bed early. When I woke up and went to work the next morning, I felt lucky.

I did the best with what I had… and maybe things would work out after all.

And now, I am starting all over again.

*I have never written about my past.

“We do not get to choose how we start out in life. We do not get to choose the day we are born or the family we are born into, what we are named at birth, what country we are born in, and we do not get to choose our ancestry. All these things are predetermined by a higher power. By the time you are old enough to start making decisions for yourself, a lot of things in your life are already in place. It’s important, therefore, that you focus on the future, the only thing that you can change.” ― Idowu Koyenikan, Wealth for All: Living a Life of Success at the Edge of Your Ability