August: Bad Decisions, New Beginnings

Ahhhh August. This month, like all months I guess, has a shifting meaning, sliding into a new shape depending on who you are, where you are. For kids it’s the end of summer, a return to school, but a return to newness - a new grade with new challenges and fears and excitement. For those tied to the land it’s the beginning of a shift towards a new season, a harvesting. For Swifties it’s a feeling of loss and nostalgia, and killer lyrics.

For over a decade now, August has been something else for me. It was August when I commissioned into the Marine Corps, and when I left active duty ten year later. It’s when I was arrested….twice, where I was forced to face my own bad decisions and the systems of power and inequity which interact with such choices.  It’s where I first noticed the man who is now my partner and father to my children. It’s where I passed my comprehensive exams and turned to writing a dissertation that would come close to breaking my academic spirit, but would bond me to minds I cherish. I moved to Virginia Beach in August and fell into a circle of friends who buoy me today. I moved to California in August, and reconnected with one of my longest, most cherished friends. August has been where I’ve started semesters and jobs and creative pursuits, where I’ve buried myself in that work. It’s where I’ve threatened to destroy those efforts, running away from the work I needed to do on myself. It’s where I met the woman who inspired me to cross the country on foot, where I ran out of the desert on that crossing with a shaky confidence and a clarity of purpose.

August. My month of bad decisions and new beginnings.

Each year I’m reminded of these events, of these choices, and I find myself bracing against the whiplash. These past beginnings represent the best of me, the parts most people see – they highlight the drive, intellect, and tirelessness that propel my success, and others’ praise. My August decisions also reflect my worst  instincts – the slices of me that promise to shred all the other pieces if I could just let them twist a bit more. August has always been the time where I let them spin and swing just a bit more than last month, where the heat melts the defenses and good sense that keeps them in their place.

I’ve made some bad decisions in August. And there they sit, forever in my experiences, right alongside those new beginnings. Alongside those impressive feats of service and kindness and success. Nestled among the first days. Alongside the feelings of anticipation and gratitude for new opportunities. Reflection in August always leads me to questioning which parts of me are more “real,” which parts have I’ve discarded? Which version is Maggie and which is her mirror?

Or maybe, just maybe those bad decisions aren’t the counters to my new beginnings, maybe they’re the catalysts. Maybe they are the choices that force me to confront that which needs confronting. Maybe they are the boiling over, the release of tensions simmering for far too long, slowing poisoning my wellness, and in turn the well-being of those I love.

My breakdowns and bad decisions have always forced new beginnings, compelled me into something new in these dizzying final days of summer, forcing my necessary transitions, no matter how uncomfortable those transitions are. And to be clear, transitions are always uncomfortable.

Transitions are good, necessary, unavoidable. But they are not comfortable.

Transitions are those middle spaces between who you are and who you are looking to be. They represent loss, and require a grieving for whatever, whomever you are leaving behind. Sadness sitting right aside anticipation. Grief interwoven with growth.

And here I am again, in August, in a transition. Having made a possibly very bad decision in taking an extended leave of absence from the department, relinquishing a stable paycheck during a time where that feels very unstable. Here I sit, having turned down another job that, on the surface, seems perfect for the moment, allowing me more control over my days and time with my family – a job that promised to match my current position in terms of rank, pay, and benefits.

But I’m not looking for a lateral transition. I’m not moving sideways. I’m moving forward. This is my year of growth and if I’m going to make “bad” decisions, they’re going to push me to grow, they’re going to lead to new beginnings.

So, here’s to my bad decisions, my transitions, and my new beginnings. Here’s to this August.

(and you know, hit me up if you’re hiring)

And if you’re interested in reading more about transitional periods in my life – check out Blood Sweat Tears – a collection of essays about adventures in feminine bodies (Get it? I made a period pun).