The curtains are drawn, the blankets are pulled over my head. I have not responded to messages for a few days and the only company I keep is the leftover trash from the food I cried my way through. The news doesn’t bring comfort, instead it perpetuates my fear of things being out of my control. Family can’t ease my worry— They’re literally a thousand air-miles away, and they are also afraid. It seems like COVID-19 did a sneak attack on all of us, the severity of the situation catching us off-guard. I am living through a pandemic, but my real sickness is fear.

So, what’s a self-sufficient-independent-workaholic-capricorn-borderline control freak-unattached but definitely attached-cool but not so cool-millennial woman to do? Date.

I know that’s not what you were expecting me to say, but quarantine gets lonely. The first few weeks I was tumbling down a deep hole of isolation. My misery does not love company. When I’m feeling anxiety or stress or anger or any negative emotion, I turn to myself. I’d rather deal with that alone than to project it onto some unbeknownst victim. Their only transgression, existing. SO. I decided to seek out companionship.

Online dating is a special kind of hell. It’s like Linked-In, Instagram and twitter, had a dirty one-night stand and all these dating apps are the resulting off-spring. I feel the same stomach churning nervousness as if I were filling out an application for my dream job. ( I guess this IS an application for a dream-BAE???? ). Sometimes it feels like dating apps are like those shopping catalogs my grandma would get in the mail and I have to sell myself with perfect photos and quippy one-liners. Just enough sugar and cream to make myself digestible to the masses. But that’s not my cup of coffee.

In the midst of all the COVID-chaos, the solitary confinement, online dating hell-scape, and the oreos — I met someone.

Like those extra fries that you find at the bottom of the bag, she was a happy surprise. And not because I sought after it, and got exactly what I wanted. It’s because I went in search, but I doubted myself. Doubted that I would really find anything of substance. But I did find, and it is substantial. Way more than a few extra fries, I found an entire extra serving.

This did not make quarantine any easier. Not at first anyway. All this extra time in the house can definitely make you a little stir crazy, and I was. After the initial weeks of the pandemic, I emerged from a depressive episode and all I wanted to do was escape. *Checks flights to Puerto Rico*. I wanted to run. Fly. Swim. Bike. Walk. Power walk. To anywhere that wasn’t home.

But she wanted to talk. She wanted to talk about the sun and the moon, and all those other moons. The Supermoon. She read my birth chart and came to some pretty strong conclusions about my Libra-rising and why I hate confrontations. She actually sat with me. We looked at my body together, in a mirror. She pointed out all of her favorite things about me. My birthmark, my crooked nose, that scar on my left shoulder. In quarantine there is nowhere to go, but I wanted to RUN.

My entire life my sexuality has been something that wasn’t mine. It’s ownership was taken by shame, abuse, and church-goers. Men that over-sexualized me and boyfriends that used it as a weapon. Sometimes in rebellion, I have done these things to myself. I hid so much of myself that I wasn’t even sure what was there. But being with her is like, being lost and finding a map. I don’t know exactly where I’m going, but the map will help to show me the way.

Needless to say, I didn’t go into quarantine and social-distancing thinking I would find a relationship. Like, who finds love whilst the ENTIRE WORLD is on PAUSE?!? It took an entire PANDEMIC for me to find love— That’s laughable. When you have nothing but time together, you either learn to love all the quirks or walk away. But I loved the quirks, and the kinks. We have spent the last few months working out and working in. Eating, playing, crying, laughing. Eating. Talking and arguing and making up. And eating. Being socially distant with everyone except her, brought an unexpected closeness. A desired vulnerability. A necessary re-connection. But I wanted to RUN!

When we went into lockdown, I was worried about my family. Friends, health, work, money, food, bills. And in that order. Love wasn’t on the list. But when you’re threatened by the end of the world as you know it, ‘not dying alone’ definitely jumps to the top. Like so many other immigrants, I’m away from my family. The feeling of alone-ness can creep in when your’e living in episode 802 of Black Mirror. So I’m thankful for this bonding time with her. I’m thankful that, even in a time of extreme suffering, I could have some respite. Some Love.

I’ve always had a fear of not being in control. Fear of being out control. Fear. Afraid to be alone. To be a failure. Afraid. This pandemic has brought to the surface so many of my fears, and I wanted to RUN. But I couldn’t. Quarantine and COVID forced me into place. SO I couldn’t run, or fly, or swim, or bike or walk. Or power walk away. So I faced my fears and I faced myself. And if you haven’t figured it out by now, the woman I fell in love with was me. Myself. I.

The woman I sat with, and read with, and wrote too, and ate with, and cried on, and made love too. It was me all along. Quarantine forced us together. Never in my life have I needed to work on another relationship, as much as the one with myself. My anxiety comes from a place of self-doubt and mistrust, but how can you trust someone you don’t know? And you can’t get to know someone if you don’t spend the time. Whether you’re busy or distracted or running away…So, social-distancing brought me closer to the person that matters the most. The companion I sought. The woman I dated. The person I really needed to connect with. The love that’s getting me through. Me. Myself. I.

In the words of one of my favorite poets Rupi Kaur, “you do not just wake up and become the butterfly”. Self-work is hard work. Looking in the mirror, you don’t always see a reflection that you love or are proud of. It is not selfish, it is selfless. Because you cannot pour from an empty cup— you cannot fill others with a love you do not have. Most of us have a lifetime of trauma that we’re dealing with, and not all of us have grown up in a home where we were celebrated and uplifted. As adults, this work falls to us. And self-work is hard work. But its rewards are limitless.

I had to write it out, sing it out, dance it out, cry it out. Eat and work it out. Eat some more. Cry some more. Dance and dance and dance it out. And it helped. It helps. Find what works for you, but please go in search of yourself. It is this self-love that will help in building the mental fortitude we need to make it through this. And everyday will not be easy, this is not the path of least resistance. Some days you WILL cry more than others, and some days, you WILL shine more than others. Remember, Self-work is hard work.