Chapter 103: Monica Gone Wild.

Yes. 

I found myself. 

That weird, new-agey, Jeanne Dixon, Miss Cleo, horoscope-sounding bullshit narrative? Turns out it’s absolutely real. You can, indeed, go on a self-discovery journey and find yourself. 

And it’s totally worth it. 

It’s been a Temple of Doom journey through pious churches and rowdy taverns, musty basement prayer meetings and swanky hotel rooms, heavenly havens and debaucherous dens. 

I dropped like acid at Burning Man into the church world, in which I repeatedly and mistakenly put my trust in men after being taught they somehow represented God. Many of these men jumped at the humblebrag pastoral role (isn’t pastoring really the boss-level humblebrag? Who else claims to represent God AND humility?) and easily ascended the throne of Let’s Take Over Monica’s Life Direction, whilst also becoming an authority figure over all of those taught that the pastor should have some sort of de facto authority over your life. 

I escaped the chains of the church world just to fall into the Burmese tiger trap of DudeWorld, overly decorated with bright flashing neon lights and every showoff advertisement humanly possible. DudeWorld’s glossy promotional flyer shouts “The Best Experience Of Your Life!!” in the most vivid, eye-catching candylike colors… a giant sham that turned out to be a disappointment-packed not-so-amusing pile of catastrophe with fiasco topping, sprinkled with an infestation of clowns smeared in greasy colored face goo. DudeWorld only served to make you chuck up the multicolored cotton candy you paid an overly tattooed carny with teeth numbering in the single digits wayy too much to buy. 

Yet at last, I finally found my own Paradise, carried at first by a rusted creaking wheelbarrow, then journeying on foot, then zooming along in a racecar, then shooting for the moon in a warp speed rocket.

I am free, flying solo, and pretty damn happy. Once I discovered that I was perfectly capable of driving the bus myself, and that the need for some sort of “expert” bus driver is just a bogus claim, I secured my own map, threw everyone else the hell out of the driver’s seat… and started driving. And now I’m cruising, and the window is down, and the wind is blowing my hair, and my destination may be 2000 miles away but every moment I drive is taking me closer to what I always knew I wanted… 

And I will NEVER allow anyone else to drive this bus, not now, not ever. There never should have been anyone else at that wheel. The funny thing is, it’s actually easier to let someone else take the wheel. Let someone else take the responsibility, the work, the decisions… but you are very unlikely to be happy and you are also ABSOLUTELY. NOT. FREE. 

It’s not perfect, of course.  I still have those long, dark, lonely evenings when just mayyyybe it would be nice to have someone there, but what I kept missing before is the opportunity to grow. I believe loneliness is the Universe’s instructions that it’s time to work on yourself, to improve you and your skills, to do the things one can only do for oneself, free of the dictates and boundaries of another. We grow dramatically in this way, and I hope you, too, experiment with what can be accomplished when you are alone, just with YOU.  

The results? I’m in several bands now, from solo gig to ten piece band…free from the judgment and limitations I experienced in the church. I am finally able to be the exact kind of performer I always wanted to be, chock full of costumes, stage choreography and vocal acrobatics that would have been considered showing off in the church. I am continuing my original goal I had before my life was derailed at 19, aimed at being the iconic performer I always wanted to be. Turns out, as so often for so many, the cage I was trapped in was all in my head, and the door to freedom was open the entire time.

 Each one of us carries the responsibility for our own feet to walk the hell out that door, and you choose whether you are brave enough to actually do it. 

In my mind, I’m 19, and this time I’m taking the fork in the road that leads to a full fucking delicious dinner, and all of the dreams I wanted. Every passing day is making me more of who I had originally determined to be. 

I have close friends who don’t try to run my life or question my dreams. They support my life vision, and are my best cheerleaders. 

The pastors are gone, as is the church authority. What about my spiritual life? Well, what I decided along the way is that I’m not EVER AGAIN going to put the brakes on my life and my goals just because I’m not quite exactly sure what’s going on spiritually. I tried to figure out these questions for over 20 years and got nowhere except to put off all of the things I wanted to do that had clear and obvious steps to achievement, rather than nebulous wonderings. I have come to the conclusion that some things just can’t be figured out. I know this will likely breed some persuasion mail, but rest assured, for all of you sending me “the answer is A!” there are just as many sending me “the answer is B!” Or C. Or X. Or Scientology. Whatever. While the navel contemplaters try to unscrew the inscrutable, I’m going to be over here living my life. I have a conscience, and a gut, and a heart, and it has been serving me just fine, thank you. I will not waste another minute of my life trying to figure out what no one has ever been able to figure out. Someone else can do that, I choose to live.  

The crazy control freaks are gone, off to ruin someone else’s life. They will always be with us, the constant vigilance required to keep them the fuck out is well worth not having to clean up after these thirsty bloodsucking life-vampires. It is well worth learning how not to allow someone to vampire you, and Twilight should be enough warning that if you hang around vampires enough, you’ll wind up Kristin Stewart with a weird CGI freak baby. 

As for the Dudes? They are gone, too. Who I am today no longer draws this kind of bottom feeder, and when they do come around, it’s an obvious three-dollar bill languishing over his third Scotch at the bar.  If I ever become involved with someone again, it will be on my terms, absolutely not allowing anyone to derail my life, no way, not ever again. I know who I am and I will thrive in my personality and will not allow anyone to change it. I WILL NOT ALTER who I am for anyone, I spent too much time getting myself back. And the lack of Dudes keeps my inbox delightfully drama and dick-pic free. Every now and then I get a message from a Dude of days gone by, but my new bestie, Mr. Block Button, continues to be an escape hatch from these conversations destined for nowhere. 

I fucking did it. 

I won my life back.

And I am here to help you get yours back, too, and I intend to continue the find yourself party at ____ (this is not up yet, keep posted) to help with the reclamation and subsequent party. 

My life is good. 

I am free of the influence of pastors or Dudes. 

I have it all. 

Allow me to introduce myself.

I am Monica. 

Gone wild, and free at last.