Who Gave You Permission?

       In January, I went to Puerto Rico on my first ever solo trip. The main purpose of the trip was to go see the national treasure, Lin-Manuel Miranda, perform in Hamilton but I had planned for a whole week to explore Puerto Rico. I had rented a car for a few days, which when you're staying in a hostel automatically increases your popularity. The day before the older Bulgarian woman who I was sharing a room with asked if she could come along with me for the day. We'll call her Ana. I told her she could, but that I wanted to leave the next morning at 10. This seemed like a reasonable hour to compromise on, especially since I would be up way before then. At 9:30, she was up and I reminded her that I wanted to leave by 10. 

     "I'll try," she responded. 

     I wanted to quote Yoda back to her. Do or do not. There is no try.
     At this point, the Finnish woman, we'll call her Julia, who was also sharing a room with us asked if she could also come too. Why not? At the very least it might be nice to have someone help give directions. 

     At 10, I went into our room to ask Ana if she was ready to leave. She was not. She was putting on a nail treatment on her feet and said it would need time to dry. She said I could leave without her but I felt bad doing that since we were sharing a room. At 10:20, everyone was ready and we finally hit the road. I was a little irritated because I had been up since about 5:30. If I hadn't had to wait for her, I would have been on the road hours ago. 

     The first stop was a cave that I had picked out to go to. When we were buying tickets, Ana looked like she did not want to do this but she didn't say anything. My original plan for the day was to go to the cave, then to the nearby largest radio telescope. However, after the cave, it was almost lunchtime. I didn't bother asking if they wanted to go see the telescope, they were more interested in getting lunch and going to the beach. 

Cueva Ventana, or Windo Cave

         We got to the beach and found some street stands to get lunch. I translated the mostly-meat options to Julia. She gave me a strange look. 

        "Are you vegetarian?" I asked. 

       She nodded her head. We drove around to several different restaurants and looked at the menus. It took three tries to find one that she wanted to eat at. After we found something to eat, we ended our day with sunset on the beach. 

Just one of the many beautiful beaches in Puerto Rico

         At the end of the day, it wasn't a bad day. However, it occurred to me that I would have done things differently if it had just been me. I had come to Puerto Rico be by myself and with just a couple of days left on the trip, I hadn't spent much time solo. When I was first settling in, it was nice to have people in the hostel give suggestions and offer to go do things with me. It was also sometimes nice to have someone around to help with directions. Although Ana's directions of "drive towards the ocean" weren't overly helpful when you're on an island. As the week had gone on though, I found myself craving time by myself but felt guilty for declining social invitations. I had wanted to go on a solo trip so I could do what I wanted and I wouldn't have to accommodate other people. On my trip, I still found myself accommodating other people. The worst part of it was I wasn't working to accommodate friends or family members, these people were strangers I would never see again.  

       The next morning I was determined to get some solo time on my solo vacation and to not spend another day accommodating other people. I left as soon as I got up. I got in the car and just started driving. There was something that I noticed when I was by myself: I stopped asking for permission. I had a destination in mind but I made several side trips and stops along the way. The next day I also spent by myself. I  took my time exploring the forts of San Juan, stopping frequently to take pictures. If I saw a store I wanted to go in, I went in it. I didn't need to ask somebody if it was okay or let someone know. It was liberating. My last full day in Puerto Rico I went to see Hamilton by myself. The last three days of my vacation were my favorite because I could do exactly what I wanted to do because I didn't have to think of anyone besides myself. I gave myself permission to do what I wanted to do.

The view of Old San Juan from one of the forts. I stopped to take a lot of pictures when I was by myself. 

      Admittedly, I'm guilty of being overly-accommodating to other people. I'm also guilty of not giving myself permission to put my wants and needs first. I think this comes from a couple of different places. As a woman, it is engrained that we should do things to make others comfortable. This includes things from being a good hostess to moving off the sidewalk if someone is walking towards you. In the classroom, the needs of my students are frequently prioritized over my own. I've given up personal time hunting down lost lunchboxes, talking to a parent or colleague with concerns about a student, or setting up for science labs. As a friend, I have been the person that people come to talk to about their issues. I am grateful that people feel like they can come to talk to me, but it sometimes comes at the cost of frequently putting the needs of others before my own. Making people comfortable, being considerate of students, and listening to friends aren't bad actions. However, they can be harmful when they are constantly put in front of your own mental, emotional, or physical health. I have often felt emotionally exhausted and burnt out from taking care of others over myself. 

     I took this trip in January, a time for new beginnings. I'm not one for resolutions, but made the point that in the new year I could stand to be a little bit more selfish. I could give myself permission to do more to put myself first, from voicing and doing what I wanted to do to be okay with doing things by myself. I had a place I wanted to start too.

Jonathan van Ness serving up some realness on Queer Eye. 

    The summer before I left for El Salvador, I met with my friend Monica at a local bakery. We met there almost weekly to eat, talk about books and publishing, and write. It came up in the conversation about how our friend Jon was getting his MFA in writing for children and young adults. 

     "You should apply," Monica urged. 

     Our meal ended again with the action steps we were going to take.

     "So, you're going to apply for Hamline," Monica said again. (Writers are the most supportive group of people you will ever meet.) The seed was planted. 

     My initial reaction to her telling me to apply was I can't do that. In some ways, it seemed frivolous.  Many writers debate the usefulness of an MFA. You don't need an MFA to be a writer. Currently, I am debt-free and it would possibly mean going in debt to pursue the degree. But for me, the program was not only about improving my writing. It's about giving myself permission to put writing first. Writing is something that I have always wanted to do, so it was also giving me permission to put myself first. The program is a low-residency, which means the majority is done remotely. I go to campus for a week-long residency in July and January. While I wouldn't necessarily have needed to move back to the U.S., I felt it was necessary to put writing first. When I lived in Minneapolis previously, I found myself surrounded by such a strong writing community. 

     So I did it. I applied and got in and already finished my first residency. Who gave me permission to make writing a priority in my life? I guess I did.