So.

It’s been a minute. How are you?

June 1, 2020 was the last post. It wasn’t even written by me. The world had stopped, everyone had an opinion, kindness was spreading, fear was headlining, and no one knew what to do.

I look back at that time and wonder how and what and why. I miss the quiet and the simplicity. I loved the shared sense of humanity and I struggled with the thriving divide. During so much of the darkness there were incredible moments of light, laughter and life.

I stopped writing because I didn’t know what to say. I felt a sense of being an imposter with trying to educate folks. I felt overwhelmed with wanting to offer change. I was putting expectations on myself to do better and do more. I felt a deep sense of loneliness. What could I write that would be worth writing?

So I sat, I paid for the wordpress auto-renewal. I got distracted. I put it on my to do list, but never picked up my pen. I overthought it all and became my biggest judger and critic.

I started this blog as an opportunity to share my journey of moving from Canada to the US, and capture some of the wins, the hardships and the humor of it all. As anyone who has followed along, the content is wide, random and diverse. I got caught up with trying to write perfectly insightful offerings and lost the whole point of just sharing my completely imperfect story. I have struggled with accepting ‘good enough’ and sometimes it just felt easier to do nothing.

And here we are today: The incredible Ted Lasso wrapped up tonight. One of my favourite things about this show is the little moments. During that final Diamond Dogs meeting, ideas of change and perfect is explored. It’s not about aiming for perfect, because perfect is boring (outside of Jaws of course), but aim to be a better version of ourselves.

So I thought I’d come back with a little less imposed weight, and answer a question I never answered—

Eva, you asked why is Waitress one of my favourite Broadway shows?

When I saw it the first time, I ventured to NYC on a random Wednesday on my own. We’d been in Philly for a few months, so I thought I’d go with myself into the city and catch two shows: The sentimental delight of Bright Star was my matinee and Waitress was served as my evening ticket.

I walked into the theatre, greeted by the smell of warm pie and the noise of a chatty audience. I found my seat in row F Orchestra Left, all on my own, and thought this is now my life. I have the ability to do a lot of things, and right now, a lot of those things will be on my own. I can choose to miss the life I had, to be sad that I’ve become a solo adventurer, or say how amazing that I can be here now doing what I’m doing. So as the lights went down, I smiled in my seat, cuddled in, and said to myself ‘choose the option that serves me’.

Waitress as a show is a musical treat- the message of friendship, of owning our choices, and baking a beautiful life. Having a crush on the doctor helps too. It also happened to be the show I saw in that moment when I said today, this is enough, and I am enough, and I am good. In my own way, I am my version of Jenna. Looking for someone to say that my ‘words might actually matter to someone’, yet realizing that on my own, I am enough.

Since then, some days I have it all together, and I love it all. And some days I really don’t. Some days I can’t find any words to say, and somedays, like today, I come out of hiding and find my imperfect words to share.

Thanks for reading, and ‘I promise you do, you matter.’

You Matter to Me, Waitress: