BATHROOM MOMENTS

If you've read the bestseller Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert, you'd know for sure what a "bathroom floor moment" is. To me, it's basically that defining moment when you've hit the floor (literally or otherwise) and realize there's no where else to go but up, only that that you'd have to make serious changes in your life -- whether it was to find God or find yourself. But whatever it was, you knew for sure that things couldn't simply stay the way they were, at least for your own sake.

I'd had that moment many years ago, when I decided to end my first marriage. And I had it again, almost to the day today, four months ago.

At that time I had just gotten back from Manila where I attended my high school homecoming. And while I was away, I almost lost everything -- or at least I felt that I almost had. I remember staring at the TV in my sister's darkened room where I slept; On CNN I watched images of the wildfires raging near my home and wondered where exactly I'd ask the shuttle driver to take me once I arrived in Los Angeles, especially since my husband was also out of the country and my neighborhood had been evacuated. At that point I asked myself: if I lost everything right now, what would I have left?

I was immediately comforted by the thought of my husband and cat, my family and friends. And then I realized in horror: Besides them, what I have left to go back to is my shitty job.

When I got back, as if on cue, all hell broke loose at work and I completely fell apart. It wasn't pretty: all the fragile threads holding me together snapped in an instant. I asked my husband to pick me up at work and before I even got inside the car I had already started crying. I think I cried for about four days straight. My insides felt shredded and raw, my nerves were tingling as if they were exposed above my skin, and my heart constantly ached. My friend Charmaine recently told me that she knew things were really bad for me then because I didn't want to talk about what I was going through. And I still haven't talked about everything that happened -- to anybody.

But I knew when I fell apart that something had to change; I knew that I had to change, even if it only was my point of view or perspective. I felt that I had failed myself again because I had allowed fear to stop me from doing what I knew I had to do for way too long. And so I told myself the exact same thing I did when my first marriage fell apart: I had to be happy, I had to commit to happiness again.

Everything that happened afterwards almost fell into place. I don't think it was because of luck, but because of will. I gave myself a month to think and heal, at which point I'd find a part-time job at a company I admired. I told myself that three months later I'd find full-time employment at a company of my choosing as well. I told myself to constantly be true to myself and not to settle even if I felt desperation creeping in.  But above all, I told myself to believe in myself and in what I was doing, and believe deeply that all of this would happen.

And it did, just the way I believed it would, even if I saw the few thousand dollars in my bank account shrink into a few hundreds. There were also other unforeseen circumstances hurled my way, which made me think (but only for a moment) that life-changing at this time might not have been such a good idea after all. I kept telling myself: focus, be positive, believe. I suppose this is like prayer, where you ask -- and then you trust -- God.

I can pinpoint that exact moment when I realized I had nailed it. One of the most important things to everyone that had a say in the decision-making was how much of a team player this new hire would be. Now everyone who interviews for any job will usually say that they are (the word is "collaborative" -- now go put it down in your resume); I certainly knew that for this job my competition would practically spell it out, and loudly.

As this particular interview wound down I looked at the woman sitting in front of me. I could tell she wasn't sure if I really was all that I said I was; it was obvious she was still skeptical. My latest bathroom floor moment flashed in my head. Then I asked, "May I add something here?"

"Of course," she replied.

"Look, at my part-time job now I often have to clean the bathrooms after we close. Now these bathrooms are for everyone to use so you can imagine how unpleasant it can sometimes be," I began earnestly. "But even when as a store manager before, I cleaned the bathrooms while wearing my cute outfits and heels. I figured that if I expected my staff to do it then I had to set the example and do it, too."

"You see," I summed up, "Whether you clean the bathroom or type up a report for the president of the company it's all the same thing. Everything you do -- whatever it is you do -- if you do them well, they all contribute to the company's success." And after I said that, I sensed a palpable shift in her demeanor; it was almost like I heard her exhale.

My bathroom moments. They have truly served me well in this life.

Comments

[rei]

Ah - I've never actually cried reading someone else's blog, and I still haven't, but this brought me close. A friend of mine calls this "starting a new life", and I told him it was such a positive way to talk about something so devastating.

I know what you mean, and, like you - I am so, SO thankful for the moments that have made me stronger. (I don't necessarily want to live through them ever again, but that's another thing entirely!)

[Jet]

is that what you call it, a bathroom moment? I've had that too. it paired me up, quite intimately, with growing up pains. but yes, it's a butterfly out of the cocoon afterwards.

Congratulations on the job! In general, that company is a dynamic, happy family. And your boss happens to be one of the better guys.

[Fudgee]

Its such a relief to know that i have a kindred spirit in experiencing this sort of thing - the fact that she's a batchmate i admire makes it doubly special. Yup, im in a bathroom moment at this point in my life. I hope that like you and so many other brave women out there, i'll find the courage and chutzpah to take the bull by the horns and love myself a little bit more. Thank you, Gigi!

[Gigi]

Rei - Hey you sweetie, what's going on? :) This year holds a LOT of changes for you, I know. This "new life" of yours will be extraordinary. Flux is always stressful...but you're so, so strong and I know you'll not just get through it, you'll soar. (Hugs).

Jet - Thanks so much! I can feel this is going to be good. Lots of challenges for sure...but I'm looking forward to it. :)

Fudgee - Fudge!!! If you need to chat (IM) or email, I'm here for you! I wouldn't have gotten through this without RSNA, Trish, and Ana P., for sure. We all need a little -- or a lot -- of help from our friends (and sisters) after all. We love you!!!

[jase]

Hi Gigi, I never really realized what was going on with your life until this entry!

I can feel your energy, your prayers and your quite determination transformed into words. And that sense of achievement!

You are truly an inspiration to everyone! And thanks for sharing the beautiful YOU!