Good things happen too

I graduated from college in 2006. Bureaucracy in Brazil is something serious. We are pros and apply it to each and every area of life. Diplomas took, at that time, about a year to be ready. When I went to the university to get my diploma, it was intense. Much more than the year before during the ceremony. I saw a video of my life showing those five years in my head.

I saw all the parties and all the fun. All the incredible people I met and the friends I made. All the things I learned and discoveries life brought to me. But I also saw the pain. I saw the death of my father and grandparents. I saw how much I had to work while studying so I could give my mom a very welcome financial break. I saw myself start working at 7 AM, some days, and getting home from school after midnight — and somehow still having the energy to party some of these days. It was intense. It was painful and it was wonderful. Most worthwhile things in life are both.

What I felt at that moment, waiting for the clerk to find my diploma, I had never felt before. A sense of accomplishment, of being in the right track. A feeling that my efforts had resulted in something good and meaningful. I never felt it again. I mean, not until last night.

A lot has happened since that day in 2007. I changed professions twice. I bought and sold a house. Got engaged, moved in together, broke up. Saw my self-confidence plummet and had to rebuild it more than once. Traveled abroad, made friends for life, learned so much, earned a lot of money, went bankrupt — also more than once. Moved houses so many times that I can’t even count anymore. Got into the best physical shape I ever had in 2014. Danced so much, dated whoever I wanted to date. It’s been wonderful.

It’s also been painful. Too many definitive and early goodbyes.

Marion, one of the best friends I’ve ever had. “My mom from São Paulo,” as I would call her. I always stayed with her when I needed to spend a few days in São Paulo. She always asked what I wanted to eat when I arrived. “Don’t forget your coat” when I went out at night. The best life stories I’ve ever heard were Marion’s. The world lost a lot of light when she passed.

My mom, so early, so many things we still wanted to do together. So many things we deserved to do and enjoy together. She was my biggest supporter and I miss her every single day.

My sister-in-law, who was such a good friend to me, and who gave birth to the two people I love most in life, my niece and my nephew. Also, the person who asked, by my mom’s coffin, to take care of her children when she was gone. She knew she didn’t have much time left. She didn’t have to ask, I would anyway. But she did, and made it my job to make sure everything would be ok for them.

There was more pain. There was depression, there was so much grief, there was isolation and food-binging and bankruptcy again. There was being unable to open an email — any email — because I was so afraid of what it would say. There was giving up my dream job to fulfill the promise I made to my sister-in-law when I moved in with my brother to help him with the kids.

There were no regrets. There are no regrets. There is only I wish it could be different. There’s I wish my niece had a better, less traumatic childhood. There’s I wish the first color she chose to paint when she was little was pink, or purple, or red, or blue — but not black. It was black.

There’s I wish my nephew could have enjoyed his mom for longer, and in good health. There’s I wish his idea of “let’s play,” when he was little, involved going outside and running around, not going to bed because it was where he would always find his mom.

I lived with them for almost a year. If I had loved them as my own before, after that year it felt like they were my own.

Right after I moved out, I met my husband, and my brother met his new wife. Our family grew with them. My husband brought his brothers, his sister, nephews and nieces, and I feel loved and cherished by all of them. My new sister-in-law brought her beautiful little girl, her parents, grandparents, a whole big, beautiful and loving family who received my brother, niece and nephew with open arms. I’m grateful for each one of them.

Life seemed to be good again. And I felt it was time to take care of me. I had always wanted to live abroad, so I moved to Portugal with my husband in 2020. In March. About two weeks before the first lockdown. We had planned everything. And every single plan went down the drain with the pandemic and with Portugal being Portugal and I being myself. As a result, I haven’t been able to see my family since then.

I did not get to see mu kids growing up these two years, I did not get to see them becoming who they are today. It’s not even FOMO, it’s IKIMO. I know I’m missing out. And then, last night, I got this amazing gift.

My niece started asking about Portugal, and how much it costs to come here, and said that she’s thinking about going to college here. It’s just a thought for now. But it filled my heart with such joy that I’m still crying. It’s the same feeling of accomplishment and being on the right track and that efforts result in good things that I felt that day in 2007, waiting for my diploma, only infinitely stronger.

The feeling that I get to give her this opportunity to build a better life for herself. The opportunity I always wanted and never had. The feeling that yes, these two years away from them have been hard, but they’re also the foundation to provide them with possibilities beyond anything we could have imagined years ago.

Life doesn’t give you these signs very often. Uncertainty is the rule, we never know what’s next. We never know if the choices we make are the right ones. I’m always wondering “what if.” So I’m cherishing this moment of accomplishment, these tears of pure happiness and relief, and I’m sure I’ll remember this day for the rest of my life. It’s the end of the most difficult time in my life. The beginning of a new chapter. And for the first time in a long, long time, I actually feel hopeful and strong.