Jincy George

No Longer on Square One

I just turned 26, but I could not recognize who I've become. Within a year, I had dropped my career plans of becoming a doctor, I gained 30 pounds, I rarely saw my friends due to my own insecurities, and I no longer felt like I had purpose in my life. I wanted to begin the elusive hunt for happiness, but being stuck in my own mind of failings, it was hard to to find that starting square. So what else to do but search for at home remedies for depression since there was a glaring lack of insurance. Of course, all google had to offer was exercise, therapy, sleep, and diet to help someone feel better. Between my lack of financiacial stabilty to pay for therapy, the constant need of comfort food to feel less depressed, and my inability to sleep due to the lack of purpose, I figured it would be best to start with exercise. Thankfully, my desire to overcome my insecurites came during the New Years which meant the gym membership deals were something my bank account could actually handle. However, the constant injuries to my back and knees meant the only exercise I could do was cycling. I found a local suburban cycle studio that had pictures of all kinds of women in hopes that I could fit in. With all the nerves in the world, I managed to sign up for a promotional deal for 30 days as well as participate in their take on new years resolution. If you worked out 75 times in 60 days, you get a prize, sure I said, as I struggled to even convince myself to get into the cycle studio. There were so many older women, who seemed to be friends and talking about brunching this weekend. I made it on the bike, turned on the fitbit and tried to not feel so left out. As I started to warm up, the instructor started to dim the lights, give a lighthearted story about her family, and all I could say to myself was just get through these 45 minutes. It was not the typical exercise til you're exhausted; it was a movement. The music, the environment, and tribe of the class was intoxicating. It almost felt like extra oxygen was being released into the room because I had never felt more invigorated. My lack of stamina and muscles were very obvious but I never once felt like giving up. It was the first time in years that I felt like I was accomplishing something, and it was an amazing moment. Before I even knew it, the 45 minutes were up and I had to leave my bike of bliss back to the unknown. However, something happened in those 45 minutes because when I left the room, the same women who I felt intimidation from were congratulating me on my first ride and encouraging me to take another class. The tribe was not just for those 45 minutes, but it was empowerment that continued well through out. Before I knew it, I had managed to do 60 classes in 30 days and my time was up. I wanted to continue, but my finances were still in shambles and could not afford the $150 a month commitment. After my last class and after a few days of saying my goodbyes to my new friends and promises to catch up, I recieved incredible news. My new friends had pitched in and donated 3 months worth of classes for me to take as I continued my journey into self discovery with them. It started with them just wanting me to finish the 75 classes and ended with them donating more than $450 for me. These friends I had only known for 30 days deemed me worthy enough of their hard earned money. I could barely say thank you through all my tears. This was the most selfless generosity I have ever recieved in my life, and I am still reaping the rewards of it. Through their friendships and conversations, I had found my new passion for a completely different career which I am currently pursuing. Their generosity also piqued the interest of the cycle company who offered me a job so I could continute working out with them while creating some financial security for myself. These strangers I met on New Years have become life long friends that I still talk to these days. We already have plans for brunch when covid finally decides to settle down and we can start looking for the bottom of bottomless mimosas. One year later, I can say wholeheartedly I have finally found myself and I am quite content with who I am.