From battalion to fire team

​My husband and I had come to see a Montreal band play in a local bar downtown. It had been a lovely summer evening of strolling in the Quartier des Spectacles and nibbling on apéro. We had arrived early for the show, and, thanks to our punctuality, we snatched a table that gave us a nice view of the stage. As I perched on one of the bar stools, Phil returned to our table with our order of drinks and we awaited the opening act. A crowd was slowly forming, and I let myself indulge in some people watching. While all sorts of folks were attending, I recognized the youth right away. Of course, you could be thinking that merely by physical appearance, one would know (even though in my mind, I am eternally 30 years of age) yet, it was the way they greeted each other that struck me and plunged me into nostalgia.

The way they all smiled and mostly, hugged each other.  The closeness of the groups of friends that was forming in front of me was striking. I’ll take it one level deeper: the familiarity in those greetings and in how they looked at one another, revealed to me that they most likely had seen each other just the night before and still, they could not get enough of their time together… and my heart sank a little.

I reminisced to those days when your friends were all you ever thought about. They were the pillars of my world and I could not wait until my next hang out, my next class or better yet, my next show. Those carefree days when truly, the future was unwritten, as it still is, there just seemed to be more of it back then, and that feeling was reassuring. We would call each other without having to first text “can I call you?” or just show up at a friend’s front door unannounced to say hi or hang out…wild.
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Strong friendship can weather any storm and always remain (and so do hugs). It is the proximity and place you occupy in a person’s life that changes over time, naturally so. 

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The waves of changes

​In my perspective, as of elementary and high school, I compare friends and classmates as soldiers in one giant battalion, splitting into different companies. Some are in the same platoon or even squad but we all cross paths inevitably given we are in the same school or live near each other.
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The first wind of change comes with the end of high school and the beginning of CEGEP and university studies. Some of us chose to continue on the road of education versus others who entered the work force quicker. Some friends moved and lived in other parts of the world! And still, we kept in touch writing letters, long phone conversations and meets ups that kept those friendships alive and well! And while the battalion of soldiers that was once held together by the regiment of our private school and geographical positions began unravelling with the newfound freedom, I never felt alone. That battalion only shrank ever so slightly and moved. Also, it was quite expected as a result of the end of high school, so the surprise effect was absent. The sense of fraternity was just beginning through the obstacles that we all went through on our own respective paths.

​A second wave of change usually occurs when careers are launched and I felt this when I continued to graduate studies as many of my fellow comrades joined the work force. Once again, friendships are tested as we jumped from one trench to another, from one base camp to another, trying to achieve our respective goals. Naturally, we do not all have the same endeavors, it is only normal for soldiers to switch squads, platoons or even battalions. We cheered each other on from our stations and though we saw each other a little less, the fraternity was alive and well. Besides, I had always known my road was going to be longer than most and I enjoyed the student path more than I realized. 

A third triage takes place with the traditional milestone of marriage. As many were stepping into this new realm, I was only just beginning the launch of my career.  Yet, even so, this wave was not significant as I still saw many of my friends regularly. We participated in each other’s events and activities and I also joined the married coupled world later on. My soldiers were very much within reach, as was I, to them. If anything, it felt like the battalion had increased in size. The freedom and availability we had with life and with each other was, relatively speaking, at a peak. The end of my twenties all the way through mid-thirties were just phenomenal. I was working in the practice I had studied so hard for, I lived in the city with my awesome husband, and had an army of friends to share the joy with. Whether I was riding my Vespa in the busy streets of Montreal, sitting on the rooftop of our building by the pool with a drink, or devouring a beef tartar with girlfriends on a Tuesday night because, why not? The reality was simple: my friends were the main characters in my life story. No antagonist or plot twist was in sight to defeat us. Nothing was missing. That feeling of being young and invincible and having so much time ahead was the vibration I lived on. 

​The same vibe I saw in that group of friends greeting each other at the show that summer evening.
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Every now and again though, a pirate thought would come about, bust my defense line and steal my pixie dust. The pirate voice said, “this will all come to an end, you will see…”. I chased it away, but I knew very well that all good things end. This was no exception. However, I would cross that bridge when I got to it and not a fraction of a second prior. 

​The fourth wave is the one I was unprepared for.

It consisted of another traditional milestone that many close soldiers sought to achieve, the logical next step that society usually dictates: parenthood. Soon my socials were filled with baby announcements, gender reveals, baby showers, birth announcements and more. While I basked in my fellow soldiers’ happiness, it was the first time I felt a true separation. The world that my friends and I lived in was changing one baby announcement at a time and each time, I would congratulate the parents to be with a huge smile, turn around and shed a few quiet tears. Unlike marriage, parenthood involved a massive change of priorities and availability. While it certainly did not mean we would never see each other again or that the friendship no longer existed, one cannot ignore that things would never be the same as they were.
I admired the speed and certainty these soldiers went into this new parenthood mission as they experienced a world I was not yet a part of. One that  unknowingly, I never would be a part of (by choice).  Slowly but surely, many if not all of my friends transitioned to parenthood. Suddenly, the battalion shrank to a platoon, which inevitably reduced to a thriving squad, and just when I was certain I was solid on my feet, the squad became a one-man army. The ground shook hard and I found myself alone in the trench.
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Never had I felt lonelier on my mission. One that not many chose nor understood. 

In addition to that, I lost some important soldiers in my family squad, some that life decided to pluck out earlier than anticipated. My mother-in-law lost her battle with cancer, as did my aunt and not long after, my grandparents, the true veterans of my life, both hung their life uniforms, months apart from each other. All of them left an immense void in the team. To add more bombs to my trench, a childhood comrade of mine quit her life mission altogether. Unknowing of the horrible battle she was facing, this was a blow I never saw coming and that haunts me to this day. It is one thing to leave this world against your will, quite another to welcome the exit.  
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Those were not easy times. Handling loss in all of its shapes and forms was a challenge. My compass also lost its north for a while but I never lost sight of the light. When you see ALL of you friends choose parenthood, the pressure of joining that mission is all too real. 

​But no.
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While the entire battalion was going towards parenthood, it just wasn't my mission. It never was and I had to accept that I was different. I also have to constantly fight against the default narrative of society’s constructs to honor my integrity in that choice.

I seized the wonderful opportunity the pandemic offered to dig a foxhole and process all this and myself in it. I shifted my focus to the real main character of my story: me.
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The me I knew wanted to write, take music lessons and just keep enjoying my practice at work. I wanted to live a life of creative purpose in my way and unlock my full potential. This is my goal, every day. The reason I am so happy and energetic is thanks to me following my own wishes, even if it sets me apart. I know I am fulfilling my own contract, the one I made with myself before I was born most likely. I feel it in everything that I do and all that I am. That is the sparkling Ivana you know and love and I would not trade it for anything in the world.

Writing my first novel had taught me so much and I came soaring out of yet another shell.

If your goals set you apart, stand alone and enjoy your company! 

​I discovered that going against society’s current and leading an authentic life is far easier than going against my heart. Besides, I relished the time spent with myself and the peace that came with it. As I continue to evolve, I realize I need more pockets of alone time, now more than ever before. Writing a manuscript made me dangerously fall in love with long periods without social interactions or distractions and I cherish those moments as they calm my nervous system. I strive to find an equilibrium between the city life vibe and the tranquility of my backyard. I need both. A cool combo is being alone among strangers in the city! 

I no longer chase. I attract…

While I salute my old self, the one thriving in the battalion of the thirties, I now find myself in a new place. One where I no longer feel the need to chase and repatriate old comrades. Lately, I have been fortunate to meet new allies on my path. Soldiers who share the same interests, goals; the same mission as I do and together, we run. The more experienced I grew, the more a tightly knit fire team outvalued the battalion, platoon or even squad. The moment I stopped worrying about keeping groups together, which was unrealistic, I made room for kindred spirits. 

Now, as an experienced foot soldier whose battalion no longer exists, I carry a few battle scars, a couple of wounds that are still healing and, in my heart, a wisdom that time inevitably imposes. As I was riding my Vespa the other day, I waited at a red light and I realized I am still here, alive and healthy, doing what I love with my true partner in crime come what may, Phil. I felt so much gratitude for each day as it is a blank canvas that awaits me. The light turned green, and I buzzed away, leaving a cloud of pixie dust...

Bee, at ease soldiers!

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