When my identity fails

I don’t know if failure is the right word, but as I sit here in Denver again, settling into the space I’ll be occupying for the next three weeks, I recognize the mushiness that comes with unclaimed identity. I realize I have, and had to, de-crystalize who and what and where I was before this adventure. 

It was time to leave Arizona. Anyone who knows me well has heard it on my lips again and again, but there was always one more mission, one more reason to stay. I think I also had to truly fall in love with the desert, which I did over the last 6-8 years I was there, and I’m incredibly grateful for that. 

This year, though, 2025, I was done. Every time I considered doing something I used to enjoy in Arizona, I felt nothing. No spark, no curiosity, no joy. The desert had given me everything it could. It was time to go to Colorado.

I’ve thought of Colorado off and on for 18 years. The first time I remember was in 2007 when Fort Collins was named one of the best places to live for cost of living. I was 27 years old and I was very money-minded. I had a 401K, a full time job, and a desire to make a lot of money and wield it well. 

Later, I learned Colorado is along the astrological line that is best indicated for me in business/career (whereas Arizona was along the line indicated for my wounded child/healer cycle and relationship polarities). 

Regardless of the reason, it has been in my consciousness for the greater part of my adult life.

I got super clear - I wanted to get a remote job that I could work for a couple weeks before moving out here, which I did. I’d also need a place to stay while I was there and figure out where I wanted to plant myself. 

I actually don’t remember which happened first, but I got a house/dog sitting gig in Denver scheduled for 7/20 (exactly one month ago) which gave me a place to stay for 3 weeks, and I got the remote job I could start before leaving, build up a little money and work once I got here. Here I was, creating my destiny. 

I also had an idea of what I wanted to create once I got here - keep working the remote job, build up my business in a place I truly wanted to be, etc. 

Once I got to Denver, I could not get myself to log back into my job. I’m not interested in going all into that right now, but essentially, it was not a good fit - the job title, the day-to-day work, the pay and the hours they required were life-sucking. So, I quit. Immediately. I didn’t feel like they’d miss me since they expect high turnover after training and talked about how only 50% of people would complete bootcamp. So, I let myself become a statistic. 

This freed me up to explore. I still had some paychecks coming to me and time to figure out what I wanted to do. 

So, what have I done? There are a lot of details in this story that, again, are not for this particular moment. But here’s the overview: 

I sat in Denver for 3 weeks (an adorable pup and beautiful kitty). I should mention my dog has been with me this entire trip as well. After my initial landing (it takes me a couple days to recover from the drive), I started hunting for jobs and places to live. 

I found a job title that is perfect for me. Customer Success Manager or Customer Success Specialist. I didn’t know this job existed, but once I discovered it, I’ve been hunting down every job opening with this title. I did finally get an interview this Monday (two days ago) after 3 weeks of putting in resumes. This particular opening is 4 days/week, a very competitive salary, a small company that supports people’s financial independence. I am all the way in. I have one more potential interview to go through before final decisions. I’ll know by the end of the week whether I make it to the next round. 

I was looking for places to live, even put in some applications and deposits, then I realized I don’t need to decide that yet. It also may depend on if I work remotely or if I work in person. 

And I’ve been exploring. I have done some exploring on my own with Deena just to check some areas out. I have also done 3 more house sitting gigs after the first (I just started my 4th one today that will last for the next 3 weeks) in different parts of Colorado. I’ve been in the mountains, the cities, the suburbs. I’ve been hiking and sleeping and eating. 

I spent one night in my car, which is likely a reason for this identity piece to be bobbing to the surface right now. 

Sunday, I left Breckenridge and drove back toward Denver to stay the night in a hotel. I wanted to wake up Monday with full internet access and a reliable desk and controlled environment in order to do my interview with that company I mentioned. This took up the last of my funds.

Monday, after my interview, I packed up and drove to Longmont to pick up a $500 check waiting for me there. I received the check and tried to deposit it with my phone. It wouldn’t work. It would not work. So, I looked up where I could deposit my 100% online bank’s check in person. The answer was Boulder.

Boulder was only 14 miles away from Longmont. I had already intended to go there that day because the first time I went, I had an experience like I had never had before. Driving into Boulder, I started crying. Both times. Being in Boulder, my entire body, mind, system feels/felt like I was settled, calm, everything was fine. It’s like in a movie when people enter an alternate reality neighborhood and everything is 100% ok. The first time was no fluke. It was the same this time.

The place where I needed to deposit my check was in the touristy-est part of town. Artsy, cutesy, pedestrian-y. This was further in than I had gone the first time. I parked my car and Deen and I got out and I walked to the Capital One cafe and deposited my check. 

Whatever this thing about Boulder is, it is a “right” place for me. Like I said, I’ve never experienced anything like it. 

After depositing the check, I noticed it had not cleared in my account. I knew this was a possibility. I drove back toward Denver as I was low on gas, low on money and the next sit I had scheduled was in center Denver starting Tuesday, the next day. 

I bought a $3 sandwich from a fast food place for a little sustenance. I ultimately decided we would sleep in the car at a truck stop. I resisted for a few hours because the ones on the map were in the center of town and there was a lot of traffic. Deen and I found some shady spots to sit in the car, and a place or two to get out and walk around in a lovely park. At around 8pm we drove to the truck stop. 

Sleeping in the car wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Maybe to the reader it sounds like nothing, I don’t know. I do know that in my impoverished year last year, sleeping in the car was a real possibility for me, and I had so much fight and so many stories about it. I was in such a victim state I was fighting and fighting what was true in my life. I was scared and wanted to be taken care of in a big deep way, and didn’t ever find the care I needed. Not last year, anyway. 

This week, when I slept in my car, mostly I was just physically uncomfortable. My car is packed with everything I’ve held onto, so I couldn’t lever my seat back. I found a firm pillow to rest my head forward on and that worked ok. Killing time the next morning was uninteresting as well, but it was ok. 

I got to my next destination, the new house sitting gig. The woman had agreed to let me stay an extra day so I didn’t need to take care of the pup when I got there. I went in and went to sleep. 

Upon waking from my nap, I did my normal unhealthy, transitional things. Ate. Drank. Numbed out. Again, it’s fine. There’s probably a better way, but as long as I’m not doing that every day, I accept that’s part of my way right now as I move from place to place. 

I also noticed that I don’t really know what I want or who I am right now. For me, those two ideas are pretty intertwined.

It’s possible that I have set a lot of things in motion and I’m just on pause while they catch up. 

It’s also possible that, by upsetting everything that was normal for me a month ago, I am in the void of creation, and who I am from here is entirely different from who I was before I left Arizona, and it’s too soon to say who that is yet. 

Maybe those are both the same thing. 

I recognize being sleep deprived usually lands me in a state of existential confusion, which is what happened post-car sleeping. 

Whatever the reason, I feel, as I said, mushy. I have the part of me that is enjoying this adventure. The part of me that wonders what the fuck I’m doing. The part of me that is living in full trust as I can’t anticipate the future. The part of me that sees things keep working out. The part of me that recognizes old patterns playing out and new patterns emerging. The part of me that saw my credit score had dropped 125 points in a month even though I haven’t missed a payment. The part of me that loves the spaces I’m in. The part of me that loves being transient. The part of me that hates being transient. The part of me that knows how I want to feel but doesn’t know how to sustain it. The part of me that questions what life is and how I want to live it. The part of me that says no to a lot that I don’t want, but doesn’t feel secure in the things I do want because they seem specific and scarce. 

The part of me that knows all of these parts are just parts and none are ME, and who I am is not going to be who I was and I don’t know her yet.

I appreciate that writing this is helping to clear some of the fog. A little bit. I also appreciate that I don’t need to know right this moment what the answer is. 

I also appreciate that, even though I don’t yet know the result, I finally leaned into parts of me that have been asking for expression for the last 18 years. Cheers.