What Would Stevie Nicks do?

“Just be Stevie Nicks” – Tavi Gevinson

PicMonkey Collage

Last Monday, I had this blog post sitting in the notes section of my iPhone that I was going to impulsively publish. However, I stopped myself because it had zero solution at the end, and last Sunday a wonderful woman told me that these posts always have a solution at the end of them, and I’m solving, or at least attempting to solve my own problems, whilst indirectly helping somebody else at the same time. The only way Monday morning was going to be solved, was with a Gilmore Girls binge, and the staircase machine at the gym.

According to my dad I always write about romance, or heartbreak, and it’s because it’s my niche. But Monday I flashed back to my 17 year old self, standing in the middle of Nathan Phillips Square waiting for something that only showed up 2 years later. I remember every detail of this afternoon, my Blackberry was on Yellow, I kept wiping tears onto my favourite varsity jacket, and I could feel the sunlight blinding me, as I kept looking for a familiar face I could sketch blindfolded.

The reason for that flashback, was because I had that same feeling again Monday, but it had nothing to do with romance, or men. I had a moment of vulnerability, where I just had to get myself home before my emotional contagion could spread. I started writing a post to hold myself together until I got there, but I got so into writing that I missed my stop.

I didn’t want to post it, because it had zero solution. It was almost a diary entry read aloud in the voice of Julia Roberts, and Salvation by Gabrielle Aplin would be playing in the background and I’d scribble these thoughts with shaky hands. I think emotional contagion is worse than the common cold, and this is coming from the woman who’s spent the last two weeks coughing to the tune of Adele’s new album. I wonder if this blog ever radiates emotional contagion.

This week shifted back into a good one, I just let Monday morning win, and didn’t wait for Tuesday to start. Because right now, people have it a lot worse than we do. We can bite our nails, and pout because life isn’t going exactly the way we planned it, but we’re merely Sims characters. Someone or something else, whatever your beliefs may be…decides our fate for us. We’re supposed to miss our train, elevators, our alarms are supposed to go off an hour later sometimes. The people put into our lives, are supposed to be there. Whether they may be a lesson or a lover.

I’ve got two weeks left into my 2nd last Fall semester. The notion of me being almost done school is
t-e-r-r-i-f-y-i-n-g. But it’s also this huge relief.

I contemplated taking a semester off and living in Portugal with my mother so I could finish my 2nd and 3rd novels, and a couple projects. I’m still considering it. But not all of us can pull an Ernest Hemingway and perfect our craft in Europe sans responsibilities. So I made a Pros and Cons list.

Opportunity was the big winner, there’s a lot of opportunity here. I had an incredible opportunity given to me this week, and when things like this happen to me, I think of my 12 year old self. When I was 12 I’d tell myself that when anything bad that happens to me, it won’t matter once I’m the next Britney Spears. With a giant brace-faced smile.

I wonder if I can give up the soundtrack of my heels clacking downtown, rushing from coffee shops, to class, and back. Could I give up my 1am cab rides, with my friends laughing in the seat beside me? The adrenaline we get creeping back into my house without waking up my dog & parents?

I have friends who’ve picked up their things and moved out of the city without any attachments. My own sister has done it (never do that again Claudia, pls)

But I think this is what adulthood feels like, romanticizing the idea of escaping a city filled with 2 million people. Escaping responsibilities that we are privileged enough to have.

Maybe escaping is the wrong word to use, because regardless you’re going to have to face these things eventually. It’s like every vacation, I feel relieved once I step onto the plane, but it’s never a one way ticket. I still have to come back.

Whether escaping involves an impulsive trip, or screaming your lungs out to a Florence and the Machine song, always remember that you have a home to return back to, and whatever you do this week make it a great one.

Because Stevie Nicks would want you to .


PS: She’s right, I solved my problem. 🙂

Copyright © 2015 Daniella Beca MyCompositionNotebook


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