I find myself reassessing life each year. My ups and downs, my milestones, and my goals. I tend to think of my life in seasons. Not months or years or even weeks or days. Seasons seem to define sections of our lives during each given year, so why can’t I just describe each section of my life in each season? It seems silly at first, but to tell you all the truth, I think it’s helped me continue going and growing.
My first season was “Spring.” My brother and I were born on May 18th, 2000–the new millennium as some called it then. I was highly anticipated by my family and their friends, as my mom had prayed and begged for us for many, many years. When we finally arrived months earlier than our expected due date, she was just so thrilled to have us in her arms.
My mother, forty years old then, never knew if she would marry and have children before meeting my dad. She always wanted that life, but it had never approached her in the way she had hoped and dreamed. Sometimes I still think my mom knew her fertility clock was ticking, and she didn’t have much time left.
My brother and I grew up in a small suburban town in Indiana not too far from Indianapolis, rural in nature and always in the middle of somewhere and nowhere. I spent my childhood at dance and voice lessons. That’s all I knew. I honestly spent that whole season engulfed in school, and various activities. My parents didn’t know what to do with my brother and me, as they were reaching fifty, and we were reaching ten.
I took an interest in dance and theater at that time. It allowed me to express myself for who I truly was.
My next season was “Summer.” It always felt unbearable to be around my family, kind of like the unbearable heat that summer brings. I always felt an inescapable weight, whether it was my grades, activities, or friends. I always felt different and as if I didn’t belong. As a teenager, my mom and I always got into arguments about who I knew I was and who I needed to be. It was that summer I was sent away. A summer I will never forget.
I cried for hours and days as I wrote letters that begged and pleaded for my family to come get me. But they wanted me to change. And though I didn’t really, they knew my exterior was acceptable enough.
That summer changed everything for me. I was a new person with a new outlook. I knew I had to escape. I knew I had to get out of the middle of nowhere and begin somewhere.
The fall began for me as delicately as the leaves fell off the trees. I had gone through so many hurdles and trials in my life, and this was finally a moment where I felt I could be myself and begin the life I had always dreamed I would live. I changed my major a multitude of times, I passed and failed classes, and everything in between. It was here in New York that I learned where my somewhere was.
My next season is “Winter.”
I’m beginning my descent into true adulthood as I finish college and explore new career endeavors. I write this piece not as a cautionary tale–I hope no one ever has to go through what I have in my twenty-two years. But what I do want to come of this is a sense of hope and reassurance that you will find your somewhere, even if it seems so far away. I am here today, I will be here tomorrow, and I will always have my somewhere–even when I do find myself in the middle of nowhere.
Marissa Tappy spends most of their days freelance writing for various publications, as well as working at their job at a production studio in lower Manhattan. In the past they have worked with companies such as The Great American Songbook Foundation, and with personalities such as Michael Feinstein, Gloria Gaynor, and Liza Minelli. They have a passion for old Broadway musicals as well as old Hollywood movies that remain timeless from generation to generation. Beyond that they love spending time with their elderly cat Lisa and partner Priscilla.