Page 107 of If the Stars Align
“I know you’re right,” she continues. “I can’t avoid my triggers forever either. All the hard work you did to manage your anxiety, and the courage it took to share your story—it’s really inspiring. I hope I can be that brave one day. I just…I don’t think I’m there yet.”
I wrap my arms around her. “It’ll happen, Jenna. You have your whole life ahead of you. Don’t give up yet.”
She nods and smiles, wiping her tears. “Thanks, Dex. Ireallyneeded to hear that.”
Ishould have known today would be a special day.
As soon as I stepped outside, I was met with bright, warm sunshine. It’s not quite spring yet, and Chicago’s been gray and gloomy for weeks. But this morning, it’s sunny, just like the day I was born—exactly twenty-eight years ago.
It’s the perfect birthday gift.
The change in weather would have been enough to please me, but when I get to work and check my email, I have a message from Northwestern’s graduate admissions office.
I got in.
I’ve been accepted to their MFA program, which begins in the fall.
I’m on cloud nine. This is something I’ve wanted for years, but I let my mom talk me out of it, and I chose to go to law school out of fear rather than passion.
Knowing that I’mfinallygoing to pursue my dream is the best feeling in the world.
Nowall I have to do is tell my fiancé that I’ll be quitting my job—well, switching careers, more accurately—and going back to graduate school.
He doesn’t even know I applied. I decided it would be best to wait and see if I was admitted to the program before rocking the boat.
I never told him I thought I was pregnant either.
Because I wasn’t pregnant—I was unwittingly starving myself. And my periods stopping was the wake-up call I needed to make some necessary changes in my life.
Maybe the reason I was so scared at the idea of having a baby back then was because I’d completely lost sight of who I was. Who Iam. And I don’t want to bring a child into this world until I can answer that question without hesitation.
Over the past five months since my doctor’s visit, I’ve been working on that.
For one thing, I look like myself again.
I’ve been growing out my hair and wearing it curly, despite Jeremy dropping not-so-subtle hints—like gift cards to my salon for straightening treatments—to let me know where he stands on the matter. Since he’s decided to be passive-aggressive, I thank him for the certificates and quietly exchange them for conditioning treatments. Thanks to Jeremy, my curls have never looked better.
I’ve been eating three meals a day, plus snacks—work be damned. If a partner has to wait ten minutes for me to finish a sandwich, then so be it. None of my expensive tailored suits fit me anymore, and I couldn’t be happier. I bought myself newclothes that look good on meandare comfortable. I walk to work in sneakers and leave my Jimmy Choos in my office now.
Best of all, my blood pressure is back to normal. Not because I hate my job any less, but because I’m not desperately trying to be someone I’m not anymore.
For the past five months, since I started my graduate school application, I’ve felt like there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. I don’t let work get to me as much, because now I know this job is temporary. As soon as I applied to Northwestern, it was like a switch flipped in my head. Regardless of whether or not I got into the program, I’d made up my mind that I was going to quit law. And I’ve never felt better.
I’ve spent nearly three miserable years as a lawyer. But the silver lining is that I saved enough money to pay for the MFA program myself.
This time, no one can stop me.
Not my mom.
Not even Jeremy. Although I’m certain he’ll try.
I know he’s stubborn, but if he loves me as much as he says, he should at least understand that I need to prioritize my health.
Although I must admit…when my doctor put me on medical leave for my blood pressure in the fall, Jeremy’s initial reaction wasn’t concern.
He was angry. As if my body’s stress response made me weak—or a failure.
“Are youkiddingme, Sunny?” he said with a look of total disappointment on his face. “You let yourself get worked up over nothing, and it’s going to kill your goddamn career. Whata fucking waste of talent.”
