Nicole Christie | The End of an Era
In this emotionally powerful and introspective episode, Nicole opens up about the upheaval, challenges, and profound lessons that unfolded after her move from Seattle to San Diego in the aftermath of a freak virus. She recounts her battle with ocular cancer, being declared cancer-free, leaving a 25-year career, the end of her marriage, and the realization that it was time to leave San Diego and embark on a new chapter. Through her candid storytelling, Nicole illustrates the importance of being here for me—the practice of choosing oneself and engaging in self-care during life's most tumultuous storms.
As she prepares to bid farewell to San Diego, a city that has been both a safe haven and a catalyst for growth, Nicole reflects on the weight she has carried from the past five years. She shares her realization that some burdens are meant to be left behind, allowing for a newfound sense of freedom and alignment with the authentic self. Nicole's journey is a testament to the power of self-discovery and the courage to trust one's intuition, even when it means going against the grain.
Show Notes:
Connect with Nicole on Instagram
Follow Mindfully Evie on Instagram (the quote Nicole shares is: “You don't need to carry everything you've been through. Some of it is meant to be left behind.”)
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[00:00:00] Nicole: Welcome to Here For Me, a podcast about the power of choosing yourself. I'm Nicole Christie, and I'm honored you're joining me for stories and conversations about life's disruptions, derailments, and transitions. On this podcast, we talk about navigating challenges, walking through fire, and along the way, learning to show up for ourselves.
[00:00:24] Because just as we say I'm here for you to show we care for someone, saying I'm here for me to ourselves is the best form of self care. This season we talked about reclaiming ourselves, our lives, our purpose, places and things and experiences we've loved with others and taken back as our own. But there comes a point in the journey when you also need to let go and leave behind.
[00:00:52] This is the precipice I stand on as we air this episode in May 2024. It's been five years since I moved from Seattle to San Diego in the aftermath of a freak virus. It's been four years since I was diagnosed with ocular cancer, three years since I was declared cancer free and left a 25 year career, two years since I started production on Here For Me, a year and a half since my marriage ended, and nearly a year since the universe nudged me to leave San Diego—to move on, to move forward, to step toward what's calling me.
[00:01:33] The life that unfolded in San Diego isn't remotely what I imagined when my flight touched down five years ago, its final approach gliding beside the building where I've lived, loved, lost, and will soon leave. After a nearly eight-year long-distance relationship, this chapter was the culmination of everything my ex-husband and I had worked and waited for.
[00:01:56] Everyone who'd witnessed that journey applauded our efforts, our patience, our commitment. It was the end, and the beginning…and the beginning of the end. I arrived in San Diego sick, and over the next two years got sicker. The pandemic hit. My ex-husband's work stopped for 15 months, the entire duration of my cancer journey.
[00:02:20] We lost a significant portion of our income. Our cat fell suddenly ill and died in our arms. Our building started on fire, then flooded, then flooded five more times, finally destroying our home, and forcing us to move within 10 days. I left my career, started a business, launched this podcast, and left the marriage, all within 11 months.
[00:02:46] As a planner, and someone who hates surprises, I've often wanted a crystal ball to reveal my future. But five years of fear and shock and panic and duress forced me to focus on what's right in front of me because it's what most needs my attention and what's most within my control. I now understand the difference between preparation and rumination.
[00:03:10] The former, the best you can do for the future; the latter, a complete waste of time and energy. Or as a wise friend once advised me, if it's not happening now, it's not happening. Five years ago, had I known what was to happen, I wouldn't have believed it. I would have said there's no way the universe would deliver such harsh lessons to people who had fought so long for love and unity.
[00:03:38] That there was no way I had that much karma to clear. That there was no way I'd find myself sick during a pandemic that isolated me with someone so mired in an existential spiral, he resented his role as my caregiver and viewed my illness as a stolen spotlight. That he would check out of conversations when people inquired about my health with such disdain that multiple people on multiple occasions pulled me aside to ask if things were okay between us. That he would take his fear and frustration and anticipated grief and direct it at me: spitting, pounding, cornering, belittling rage that made me question my self-worth, my sanity, and over time, my safety.
[00:04:23] But this is what it took to open my eyes to the fact that he had always been mired in an existential spiral and likely always would be. That if I was gravely ill and still a target of someone's inner turmoil, it was not about me. I have my own issues, my own trauma, my own dysfunction, but I tried to carry his burdens for so long, thinking that was love.
[00:04:46] I tried to be a savior while neglecting to save myself. And eventually, my body called time. This is how I learned to be here for me. To realize that what we do for and to others is rarely about them—it's about us looking outside ourselves because we refuse to look within. Some of us learn this lesson quickly and more easily. Others, like me, learn in excruciating ways because we've become so blind to our own lives or because we didn't listen to the earlier, gentler whispers from the universe.
[00:05:24] When I share the journey of the last five years, people respond that I must be relieved to get out of San Diego, to put all of this behind me, to hammer a nail into this coffin and draw a bold red X on it.
[00:05:38] But I feel no resentment, no ill will towards this beautiful place. Throughout my time in San Diego, I've always lived near the bay and it's an apt metaphor. The city has been a safe harbor during life's most treacherous storms, a place that gave me sunlight while I felt my way through darkness, a place I learned to ride the waves of fear and grief alongside the healing waves of the ocean, a place that was a soft landing to collapse into and then a solid rock to lean into as I pulled myself to my feet, wiped my tears, and opened my heart, a place where maybe I didn't find my tribe or my home, but I found my way.
[00:06:22] A place where I needed to be for now and forever would come later. There are milestones in our healing journey when the load on our backs, in our arms becomes heavy, it's been felt, processed, and is now dead weight. I know I've reached one of these points when I'm no longer triggered by the contents of that load.
[00:06:45] Instead, the emotions are replaced by a sense of acknowledgement that happened. It's part of my story, it shaped me, and pushed me forward on my path. But sometimes we keep carrying the load as if it's part of us, afraid that if we set it down, we'll be empty rather than free. We believe what we're carrying is an anchor instead of a weight, a boulder that holds us steady rather than a burden that holds us down.
[00:07:14] In these moments, I find helpful guidance in the words of the writer Mindfully Evie: "You don't need to carry everything you've been through. Some of it is meant to be left behind." These words have grown louder in my head and heart over the last nine months, since the day I realized the end of my time in San Diego was drawing near.
[00:07:38] I've been carrying the weight of the last five years, not for too long, but for as long as I needed to learn from it, and for its lessons to settle comfortably into my DNA. But much like a child who's outgrown being carried, it's time to set it down and set it free. In doing so, I set myself free—free from relics of processed trauma, free of what brought me to San Diego and is now peacefully at rest, free of what no longer serves me.
[00:08:09] I'm far too sentimental to erase my history, but I no longer wish to publicly discuss it as there is nothing more to be said. I no longer wish to analyze it as there is nothing more to be understood. I'm not triggered, not traumatized, not tired of anything about this chapter of my life. I'm simply tuned in to myself and to what's next.
[00:08:34] I've always been one to follow my heart where it leads me: to a city, a career, a calling, a person, a purpose. I don't always move quickly and not everything lasts, but the experience leaves a lasting fingerprint on my soul. I believe those fingerprints lay the path that leads me to what's next. A path I must trust and surrender to.
[00:08:58] That path began to reveal itself when I was a little girl, growing up in the Pacific Northwest and spending time every summer with my mom's family in California, namely Los Angeles. From a tender age, I felt pulled to both L. A. and New York and dreamed of living in each city. In 2004, I embarked on the New York chapter and, 20 years later, I'm finally headed to L..A. I almost made this move when I left New York in 2009 and when I sold my house in Seattle in 2013. When my ex-husband's career brought us to San Diego in 2019, I figured I was close enough. I had palm trees and beaches and sunshine, my lifelong recipe for joy. But close enough is never enough—at least not for me, not forever.
[00:09:52] I'll always have a soft spot for San Diego and everyone, everything it brought my way during the hardest years of my life. This city, these years will forever be tucked into a special corner of my heart, along with the friends who held me, the doctors who healed me, the people and places of America's Finest City that quite literally kept me alive.
[00:10:16] It will always be the place where everything fell apart…and everything came together. When I drive out of San Diego for the last time as a resident en route to L.A., it will be emotional, but for all the right reasons. Because it's a running to, not a running from. They say that what's for you won't miss you.
[00:10:38] And even though it took a long time, with many twists and turns, my new city, my new home, waited decades very patiently for me. And like all the great loves of our lives, it captured my heart and held space for me until I was ready to fill it.
[00:10:59] That's a wrap on season four of Here For Me. Thank you to our guests for sharing their stories of reclaiming themselves after battling burnout, addiction, abuse, losing loved ones, and losing themselves. As heavy as those stories can sometimes be, there's always light on the other side of darkness. And I hope you've walked away this season feeling more inspired and less alone.
[00:11:23] Here in the Northern Hemisphere, it's almost summer, and true to the title of this podcast, we're taking time off to rest, recharge, and yes, for your trusted host to make her move to L.A. As proponents of living slower and more intentionally, we hope you also find time to rest and reclaim yourself, wherever you are, whatever the season.
[00:11:45] We'll be back in the fall with a new season of Here For Me. And I'm excited to share, we're expanding the show to not only discuss how you can be here for yourself during life's disruptions, derailments, and transitions, but also through betting on yourself, trusting your intuition, and making choices that go against the grain, but are in alignment with what's meant for you.
[00:12:06] In the meantime, we'll be sharing some of your favorite episodes over the summer, so keep an eye on your feed to listen again or catch up. As always, thank you so much for listening. We are honored you choose to spend your valuable time with us. Have a beautiful, restful few months, and we'll see you on the other side of summer.
[00:12:36] Here For Me is produced by Lens Group Media in association with Tulla Productions. As is often said, it takes a village to make this podcast, and my deepest gratitude goes out to every person in that village: our producers Dave Nelson and Stacy Harris, our audio editor, JD Delgado, designer and illustrator, Amy Senftleben, and our production assistant, Sarah Carefoot.
[00:13:01] If you enjoyed this episode, I'd love it if you'd follow the show, rate, review, and share it with people you love. You can also follow me on Instagram at nicolejchristie. Until next time, thank you so much for listening. Here's to you being here for you…and to the power of choosing yourself.