For some reason I’ve always wanted more

I used to rationalize this as me being weird, or maybe a bit stuck up.

My life has never been enough for me and I’m just realizing it now.

It’s not that I physically want more. Quite the opposite in fact. I’m sitting in my apartment now, each room with a pile of “Garbage,” “Goodwill,” “Yard Sale” and “Storage.”

I’m trying to eliminate my wardrobe to 100 pieces before I move 2800+ miles.

I think of it this way. It wasn’t enough for me to learn to read and write, I wanted more, so a family friend and teacher taught me cursive in first grade.

It wasn’t enough to be an excellent reader and top speller in second grade, so I began tutoring (at my teacher’s suggestion) kindergarteners how to read (one of those kids went on to Stanford incidentally, just sayin’).

It wasn’t enough for me to have scored highest in the advanced placement testing for the gifted program, I actually tested into higher grades. That was third grade. I was at a grade 13+ reading level.

The social aspect of school life bored me. I participated, says the flag football co-captain of the winningest team my fifth grade year. But I also read through nearly* the entire biography section of the public library that year too. *I skipped the boring ones.

I wanted more from my teachers. More of their thoughts, more of their time, more discussion, more insight beyond the pages. Very rarely did teachers give me more in the school district I was raised in.

The one who did turned me on to a lifelong love of literature and a college major: English. Incidentally she was also the inspiration for my getting the highest score on my AP English exam (and in my class) because disappointing her was not an option. She’s also the reason I embraced writing thank you cards. Her calling card from my senior open house is my most prized personal possession.

Hormones dragged me through high school and college relationships with boys. I always wanted more than they did, but that surfaced a neediness inside of me I could not abide, so I pushed it down, shamed it, and demanded less and less of them.

I told myself it’s better to be on the side of wanted than to feel the uneasiness in a lack of reciprocation.

I lived in Vegas, did the crazy party scene, made friends with people from my wildest small town dreams. But still, I wanted more. The entire time I worked retail, fumbling through my twenties, I wanted more but without a clear path forward or the vocabulary to describe having dreams I silently burned inside for more.

When the relationship with my child’s father incinerated, I dreaded the heat and shame of single parenting, but I moved back home because I wanted more than the nightmarish dramatic possible outcomes that poisoned my mind.

My chosen career path began to warp my mind and sense of self and I quit without a backup plan, as an adult, with a child because I wanted more. That was one of the scariest, but ultimately smartest things I have ever done. (Also thanks Mom and Dad).

I took opportunity after opportunity searching for more. More money, more knowledge, more experience, more, more, more until finally I landed at &yet. Coincidentally right after being let go from one of my favorite jobs, because I had demanded more — respect. But that’s another story.

&yet truly gives me more. More responsibility, more challenges, more experiences, more problems to solve, more people to love, more growth, more every single day.

But on the personal side, here I am, still wanting more. Will I always be cursed to be discontent?

I try new things all of the time. In the last few years I’ve learned to code, knit, organize events, draw comics, make videos, facilitate mediations, record songs, and created my own podcast with my best guy friend. Right now I’m toying around with a guitar and researching hand lettering because I’ve always had this thing for calligraphy and good penmanship and I just want to try it. And I actually have an idea for a side business I'm excited about.

But still, it feels like I don’t want much. It’s just that what I want seems too big to some people or too much to others.

It’s hard to face that being my best version of me is something that drives people away because I want more.

So here I am, making a huge personal change just to try to find more. I don’t know where it will lead or if it’s the worst idea I have ever had, but I have to try to find more.