Rahm Emanuel said, “You never let a serious crisis go to waste.” Have you ever spun a crisis into an opportunity?
I suppose so. It didn’t feel like an opportunity usually does. There wasn’t the excitement or happiness. After I left my abusive relationship, I had the opportunity to live in a domestic violence shelter for a two-year program. It doesn’t sound like rainbows and sunshine but it beat living on the streets.
It was not easy. I couldn’t come and go as I pleased. Seriously, I had a curfew when I was thirtysomething. I could not invite people over to the house, especially not men. It wasn’t a big deal to me. I was in self-imposed exile for a year. Who was I going to invite? One day I had to confess to my current boyfriend about what kind of house I lived in. He didn’t run screaming for the hills like I thought he might.
Some of my roommates were obnoxious. One even hacked into one of my messenger accounts to talk to a man. Some of my roommates were wonderful and made homemade pies.
I had a roommate for about two weeks. She stole my snazzy red hairdryer. I didn’t notice until the day after she left. I lost a hairdryer but she lost an opportunity to get her life back on track. I can buy a new hairdryer. She can’t buy another opportunity like that.
There were meetings . . . and meetings . . and support groups. More meetings. I tried to look at it as a learning experience. It was definitely a time of reflection. If I hadn’t gone, who knows what kind of life I would have now.
Red doors generally mean that the house is a safe harbor. I still love red doors. Maybe I can get a new red hairdryer to match the red door.