I was DEAD serious about throwing out my entire 20s. It’s only a month into my 30s but I’ve been purging like I’m being required to. It could be because I’ve been wasting my workdays (since we ain’t doing shit) watching cleaning marathons on YouTube, or all these emotions that I keep feeling that I may just be ready to finally let go.
Before I start, little inside family joke that my sisters and I use to laugh about the once unlaughable (not a word) moments with my brother and the relationship he has with our mother, we always start our FaceTime group conferences with yelling “Trigger Warning”.
I have a habit of throwing money into my fake safe whenever I see that I have money laying around. I decided to count the “loose change” one night while on the phone with my then boyfriend (who probably still believes that it was a bad purchase) and noticed that I had $2000. I wanted to buy a Louis Vuitton bag but he insisted that I buy a car. Not having a car wasn’t that much of a “need” for me but we were in two different boroughs and he wasn’t fond of my 10:00 PM train rides to spend the night with him since nights and weekends only worked at that time.
I decided to web search all the possibilities in my budget. After a couple of emails later, I found my 325i BMW. It’s winter and the day after a snow storm, I get on three trains, a 15 minute walk, and waited outside for almost 30 minutes to see the car. Thank God for my boyfriend because he shows up 10 minutes later to save my freezing feet and negotiating the offer (because if he wasn’t there the guy selling wouldn’t had given me the same deal) to $1300. I had enough left over to register and gas up my car. Two week later after another horrendous snow storm, my mother throws my shit through the door and ignited my journey to independence.
I sat in that car to get quiet time when I was between sleeping arrangements, re-grouped my thoughts before conflict, took me back and forth to Far Rockaway Queens (it’s like another state), recorded video to talk out my thoughts, moved me literally three times, cried my eyes out during some of the most difficult moments (personal, emotional, professional) while her (my car) and I were together. I named my car Franciné and after our last drive in December 2016, I held on for over two years. Holding on to a lot of pain and hurt but mainly SAFETY. Isn’t it the reason we hold on to most things?? Saturday was our final goodbye.
Well, I’m triggered now and I still don’t own a Louis Vuitton Bag.