little cucumber,
hello, hello, sweet one. oh, it’s been so long, and feels wonderful to be writing to you again. though life is still keeping me busy, I feel in a much better place to pick up our letters where I left off. how are you? what did I miss?
with our distance, I’ve had a few topics simmering on the back burner, and it’s difficult to choose what to talk to you about first. we have so much catching up to do. this past year was difficult, revitalizing, and perhaps one of my favorite years yet. I want to circle back to it for just a moment, if you’ll let me, before the window has passed and we wade farther than thigh-deep into 2023.
last year, I boarded 3 flights and 4 train rides. I got two lungs full of the Pacific. I wrote a book and started two more. I camped, biked, danced, swooned, laughed, screeched, and whale-watched into a steadier being. and though I can no longer say the trend will continue into this year (😉), I also took 2022 to be entirely single. it feels like a silly point to lead with, but I don’t think there has been a single year, since high school, that I took time away from commitments or dating interests to simply.. exist as myself. (and then married by 21? forget about it.) it’s an unnerving thing to realize, when that stretch from high school to late twenties are pivotal years to build identity, make plans, and experience the stuff of living — and maybe that’s why last year felt so influential. maybe, in coming out of this long-stitched quilt of memories, I’m realizing this is the first time I really feel like me.
while I don’t want to drum the praises of solitude too passionately, nor lump identities with love lives, there is something to say about stepping away to take a long breath, and it doesn’t seem coincidental that I feel more confident in myself after spending time refocusing. I pause in throwing out such a flashy word as transformed in becoming myself (can one transform into themselves?), but it doesn’t feel hyperbolic. if there is one ringing truth left in the wake of where that year has left me, I’ve learned the beauty of independence.
a year of finding things that brought me joy. (turns out it is actually very easy to forget.) a year of “sorry, I have plans with myself that day.” a year of putting in work at therapy. a year of sitting back to observe what I loved about people and what I wanted nothing to do with. a year of allowing myself to be messy, emotional, tenacious, and wild as I worked on this book without worry how I was perceived in those feral writing hours. a year of listening so intently to what I wanted, I started cutting my hair shorter; I realized this city doesn’t suit me like it used to and it’s time for a move.
me a few years ago would have believed this list was selfish, indulgent, and unprioritized if I was meant to be on the track of dutiful wife or (heavens forbid) a mother. (and for the record, those are fantastic things to be. you don’t have to be single to achieve these realizations. absolutely not. but I needed to be.) and while at one time, those were both titles I wanted, now my identity feels worlds away from either. I could not imagine giving that time away to someone that demanded it. I no longer defer my opinions to whoever has a louder presence. I no longer default to quiet when I get uncomfortable. being alone doesn’t scare me whatsoever. after years of worrying I didn’t have a sense of self, or fearing I wouldn’t know how to spend my life, a new list of ambitions (borderline too many).
this year has shown me that I’m unquestionably capable of creating a life for myself—not only that, but one that I love. and instead of the comfortable habit of finding a small nook to exist within someone else’s vision, if I ever do share my life with someone (platonically or romantically), it won’t come with giving up my life’s reins. they’ll have to love this stirring circus of dreams I’ve built, too.
antiquated parts of me cringe, believing this isn’t/shouldn’t be as big of a deal as I’m writing it (other people have learned this sooner, easier, and without making as much of a fuss about it, why am I?), but what is healing if I’m not sharing what’s helped me? I know that these past few years are making up for lost time; believing I was happy or independent, the same way you could skim German For Dummies and call yourself bilingual. now, I intend to keep this as my mother tongue. I’m happy to see where my life leads me, but I needed to have this home base built first. I’m glad I knew it was worth taking my time.
with love,
schuyler (sky-ler)
circus fund (venmo): schuylerpeck
thank u for sharing the most intimate parts of yourself with us, hoping 2023 carries the same circus for you!