A hui hou, Hawaiʻi
A lot has changed for me in the past couple of months.
To be honest, something inside me has completely snapped and what I thought I always wanted has changed.
I am going to be leaving Hawaii early next year to experience some other things for a while.
This has been a really difficult decision for me, especially since I have worked nearly all my life to live the way I do now in the place I always dreamed of being.
The past 2 ½ years have been overall idyllic, but there has also been a lot of pain that I’ve kept bottled up and constantly been fighting to ignore.
I truly believed that Hawaiʻi was essentially my destiny.
The place where I belonged and where I would always belong. I genuinely believed--and it was certainly true for a while--that as long as I was in a beautiful place I loved and had the freedom to do the things I loved, I would be completely happy with my life. All I needed was the ocean, a surfboard, art, and a guitar. Yes, all of these things bring me joy and are literally the only tangible things I can think of that do make me happy.
But I’ve discovered that there’s a major part that has been missing, and it’s certainly the most important one:
Family.
A hyper-independent person to a fault, I never really considered the importance of community and the significance of sharing experiences and day-to-day life with family and close friends. Growing up in a large family, I often just wished I could be alone.
As an introvert, I operate best alone or in a small close-knit group of people. I choose who I spend time with very carefully and am not one to seek or have superficial relationships.
I am fine and confident with doing things on my own and never let someone else’s schedule keep me from doing something I’m interested in.
“If you cancel on me, fine, I’ll just go myself and still have a damn good time”
Although it’s undeniably extremely freeing to get to do basically whatever the hell I want whenever I want and live however I want, without having to get permission from or worry about someone else, it has a major downfall:
loneliness.
As someone who is content just being alone, I didn’t think being so far from my family or not living with someone else would effect me in any way.
I really took for granted the true joy and comfort of having close people nearby all the time.
Living alone on an island since the age of 18 has forced me to grow quickly and taught me some pretty significant things about myself.
I’ve experienced things I never even imagined. The struggles I’ve faced have made me incredibly strong in myself. When I think about the person I was before, I can barely remember her. She’s a complete and total stranger to me.
When you are alone, you have to learn how to live with yourself. You have to learn how to navigate what’s going on inside your head so you don’t drown. You have to be brave every single minute of your day because literally no one else is there to hold your hand through it. It’s so freakin’ hard but I do believe that it is something that everyone should learn to do. At the end of the day, the only person you can ever count on being there forever and ever is yourself.
So learning to live with and love yourself is pretty essential.
I’ve essentially spent the last few years internally; my focus has most often been on finding myself, improving at hobbies I love, fighting anxiety and depression, survival, and healing.
I’m grateful for this because I’ve had the space and freedom to become my own person.
I now feel confident about who I am, something I had never felt my entire life.
However, even though I’ve learned how to live alone and have created a pretty sick life out here, it doesn’t mean that loneliness isn’t still so completely and terribly real.
I’ve tried to ignore it for so long. I pushed it down and pretended it wasn’t there.
I viewed the feeling as a weakness that I needed to “fix” by convincing myself it wasn’t real. I thought that I would just “stay busy” and focus on growing my art business. Put all my time and energy into getting better at surfing or art or skateboarding or cooking or guitar or whatever.
I mean, I didn’t need anyone to do anything I wanted to do, and I had proved that every day by showing up for myself and pushing through.
So, this ache inside me must just be my mind trying to screw me over as usual, right?
I’ve told myself over and over that I don’t need anyone because I am living my dream.
I’ve accomplished basically everything I had been striving for since I first learned about the existence of Hawaiʻi in the first grade, and there was no one telling me how to do it.
I just did it because that is what I wanted to do.
But when I think about why I had felt so happy at certain times, I realize there is always, always , always one common factor:
Family and friends.
It didn’t matter where I was or what I had achieved or possessed at the time.
It was spending time with people I loved and who loved and valued me for who I was.
And that is truly why my heart was full.
The past few months I have slipped back into a depression.
As someone who can’t stand feeling stuck in such pain, I constantly seek answers and solutions that will help pull me out of the darkness and “fix” my problems.
Having been in an incredibly dark place here multiple times before, I implemented every single coping mechanism that had previously helped me: surfing, sketching, journaling, yoga, running, “treating myself,” listening to music, driving around the island, spending long days at the beach, calling my family and friends on the mainland, and trying to be around my friends here whenever possible.
But nothing seemed to be working, and I was so frustrated and confused.
I had great supportive and genuine friends in Hawaii. I had an out-of-this-world wonderful loving family that did anything they could to help me from thousands of miles away.
So why, why, why was I drowning in loneliness? Why did this time around hit so much harder than it ever has?
Why wasn’t it going away?
I also felt this growing feeling of being suffocated and stuck.
I wanted nothing more than to just get off the island. I felt no desire to surf. I felt no excitement for anything. The beauty of the natural landscape of Hawaiʻi didn’t give me that feeling of contentment and belonging anymore.
This all had me confused beyond reason. It literally felt like something inside me had completely shattered and I had no idea why.
It felt like everything I had created inside me had been blown up and swept away and I didn’t know who I was anymore.
I had worked so hard and struggled so much to create the life I had always dreamed of: living in the place of my dreams, Hawaiʻi, surfing all the time, creating art, and working in a chill and creative job with great people.
So why, why, why was I suddenly so completely unhappy?
Why was I longing for it all to change?
What was wrong with me? How could I give this all up, and for what?
In all honesty, I don’t really know why all this suddenly came crashing down on me.
A few things contributed to it for sure, but they were things that previously never triggered me to question where I was and want to completely uproot everything and seek somewhere and something else.
Heartbreak and the longing for my family hadn’t pulled me away from my goal of being where I was and living how I did before, so why now?
I don’t know.
Weeks of wrestling with my thoughts and feelings, trying to get to the bottom of this abrupt and debilitating change, attempting to continue to ignore the gaping void of loneliness, and unpacking things in therapy, I’ve gotten some clarity and made some major decisions.
First off, I’m tired of being so far from my family.
They are my true home and it’s so freakin’ hard to not be able to be around them.
Phone calls and text messages are great, but they can’t replace physical company, or the knowledge that I could get a *cheap* flight over to see them if I wanted to.
I’m tired of coming home to no one.
I’m tired of falling asleep almost every night with tears in my eyes.
I’m tired of fearing the night time because that’s when loneliness hits hardest and my mind is most vulnerable.
I’m tired of waking up in the morning and feeling scared about how I am going to feel.
I’m tired of never getting a break from constantly having to “put myself out there,” from only having myself around, and for having to figure out everything on my own all the time.
I’m tired of having to spend so much time battling with my own thoughts.
I realize all I want, the biggest missing piece for me, is family.
Who cares where I was or what I was doing if I was surrounded by people I loved, who loved me, and who made me feel safe and at home?
Not sure what it is, but there’s this gut feeling inside of me saying that I’m not going to find that here.
I feel this assuredness that what I want is no longer here and that I need to go elsewhere to find it.
I will certainly return to Hawaiʻi as much as I can to see my friends (and of course, surf), and maybe to live there again someday.
But I need to let it go for a little while.
Coal Harbour, Vancouver, BC on a solo trip
This brings me to the fact that I am restless and need to explore other places and experience living in different cultures.
I absolutely love Hawaiʻi and the people and culture here.
But there’s so much more and I need to see and experience it before I settle down.
On top of that, being stuck inside my head for two years has made me desperate to get out and put my strengths into helping others.
I’m so ready to step outside of myself and focus on serving others so they, too, can find strength in themselves and accomplish their dreams. I lived my dreams, and I want to help others do the same. Nothing brings me more joy than that…not even surfing :)
Sorry about this depressing and probably TMI disorganized ramble, but I’ve been needing to get this out.
Maybe you can relate in some way?
In summary, I will be leaving Hawaiʻi and will be working and saving closer to family before joining Americorps, where I will travel and serve others around the country.
With that said, I will be taking a break from selling my art and will probably be completely inactive on social media for the next year.
Before I go, I’m anticipating having a studio sale to clear out some old paintings, so stay tuned for that.
It will be your last chance to get my art for the foreseeable future!
Additionally, 50% of all the profits from original paintings sold will go to organizations that support two causes close to my heart:
mental health and ocean conservation.
For mental health, 50% of the profit from select paintings will go to the Busyhead Project, a mental health organization started by one of my favorite song artists, Noah Kahan (whose songs have been a major savior for me these past few years).
The Busyhead Project works to provide mental health awareness and resources to communities across North America.
For ocean conservation, I will be donating 50% of the profits from select original paintings to the Surfrider Foundation, an organization dedicated to protecting and conserving our oceans, waves, and beaches.
Thank you for all your support as always, I hope my art and words mean something to you.
So much love and aloha,
