Red Pants

I'm reflecting on a full July. Early in the month we took a trip to Spain with my extended family. I hadn't been back to the country since I studied abroad in Barcelona 20 years ago. That time, and place, holds such a charge for me. I was in the depths of self-destructive behavior when I lived in Spain. All of college was a slog of feeling dysregulated and "partying" with drinking and other damaging habits in an attempt to numb out. I had gone to undergrad straight from a traumatic summer, and I didn't have the support or coping mechanisms to feel OK without using alcohol, glomming onto boys, etc.

While living in Barcelona I went out and drank Every. Single. Night. I dated a gorgeous European named Adriano and I became completely codependent, needing his attention or spiraling. How fitting that the name Adriano means "dark." It was a dark time for me, despite the facade of having fun.

My family visited at one point and met Adriano out at a bar. He wore red pants during the meetup, and he will forever be known as "Red Pants" to my siblings. Red pants have come to represent not only Adriano but darkness. I look back at that time and cringe. I see a younger me that I want to care for. And in fact, I do care for her now. I consciously carry her, and all my younger selves, with me. I check in on those younger parts and send so much love.

When we decided on Spain as the destination for this summer's trip, I was looking forward to it but I was also apprehensive. I associate my time in Spain with pain and betraying myself. I'll never forget so many tough moments during that period, including one night calling Adriano over and over again, while he was busy and I was crumbling.

I set an intention to make this vacation a positive experience. I am no longer 20 years old and flailing. I have done so much work to help myself, to dig out of the depths of despair I felt back then. I'm carrying my younger selves, and I got this. I even bought myself a pair of red pants to wear on the trip.

AES

P.S. This post makes me think of the best movie (with the worst title) My Old Ass. Check it out!