No Man is an Island, We Are All an Island

Let’s Talk about Islands…

I’ve been told, not that I wasn’t already aware of this, but that I have this wall up around me. So I have decided, because the blog about love and marriage was pretty cathartic, that I want to write as honestly as possible on here.  I am in this place where everything I have been accustomed to has kind of disappeared. My heart is in my stomach and it feels like I need to throw it up, but again it is there, because even as often as I say I hate everyone and everything, I don’t really. Sometimes I just lose faith in people and it is easier to say that.

I’ve been in this city for 6 months, which is still new. I’ve been in these classes for one week, which is new. I’ve had roommates for 1 week, which is new. I consider Indiana home, because it is where I have spent the most time, but when I am there it doesn’t feel like home. I think it’ll be interesting to find a place that feels like home.  On that note, let’s talk about islands…

island-multi

No man is an island, but every man I have tried to test this statement on has proven it to be false. I think at one point in our lives we need to be an island. Figuring out ourselves, even though we never will completely know who we are. We can prepare for the storm, come up with a plan, build a shelter, and soak up the sun once we feel protected. But at some point you have to let someone on to your island. Islands get lonely. I feel like I get in my little Mario boat (level 3 hammer time), make it to the island, get one foot out of the boat, and then get turned away. Maybe I have always been rowing in my boat trying to get on someone else’s island when I should have been preparing my own? I have never thought of it that way before.

super mario bros. 3 island word

So maybe it is time for Jenna to be an island. St. Jenna. Jennahamas. Jeruba. Not only do I want to pull a Sheryl Crow (soak up the sun) and relax, I want to just be. I am the first to admit I probably don’t know that much about myself. It is weird to think that you have been alive for 26 years, spent everyday with yourself, but other people know you better than you do. MIND BLOWN. It is hard to acknowledge that you need to work on yourself, but truth me told, everyone should probably spend some time doing it and figuring themselves out. This shit is scary, but I need to be an island. I have spent so much time with my foot on someone else’s sand fighting to be a part of something. Fighting to get 2 feet on the ground and claim a home. It’s hard to articulate. I am too stubborn and passionate for my own good. Those are two things I do know about the island of Jenna. When I feel strongly, I fight. But maybe sometimes you just need to wave the white flag. If someone wouldn’t fight for you, then it’s probably time to concede. My island is going to be like Switzerland: neutral. I lost all my soldiers from fighting and losing too often.

I am throwing up the white flag. I am getting a hammock, parking my rowboat, and setting up shop. Hopefully these waters won’t get too choppy.

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