Transitional overload

Yesterday, Sean pointed out that I constantly feel as though I am "in transition." True story. Here I am again, shoving myself through another window of life's opportunities. This time, I'm balancing unemployment with wedding planning and dissertation writing. The irony of my social and cultural privilege is obviously that I (a) have time to reflect on my transitional state, (b) have advanced understanding of psychological constructs upon which I can rely for self-analysis, (c) am financially stable enough to comfortably exist in this limbo for a while, and (d) am planning for some spectacularly exciting future prospects like marriage and a completed PhD.

I mean... why is this a bad place to be?

Well, the feminist in me hates relying on a partner for economic stability. The perfectionistic student in me knows there must be a way to ace this challenge, learn a valuable lesson, and file away a completed reflection paper.  The therapy client in me despises feeling stuck. The beauty queen in me just wants a reason to get up, take a shower, and get pretty for my day. And the cheapskate in me can't help but think I could be more frugally managing my life's resources.

My fluid and intersectional self is having a flippin' identity crisis.

In my few-and-far-between moments of existential clarity, I transcend to a state of acceptance, gratitude, bliss, and self-love. I am proud of my accomplishments. I am fortunate to have an incredible life partner and meaningful relationship. I am talented, caring, and authentic. I appreciate all that I am and all that I have in my life.

If only I could hold onto those moments... but, like me, they transition. And, I find myself back on the couch, fending off defeat, deadlines, loneliness, and the cat who constantly wants to sit on my lap.

I'm not trapped. But, I am transitionally challenged.