When the Wheels Fall Off (Literally and Metaphorically)
They say bad things come in threes, but for me, 2020 felt like it missed that memo and just went for broke. Some people had sourdough starters; I had meltdowns. Some decorated their homes; I redecorated rock bottom. It was the year everything unraveled, from my long-term relationship to my overly optimistic life plans, taking my sense of self along for the ride. But the good thing about hitting rock bottom is there’s plenty of room to rebuild. Spoiler: I’m good now...mostly.
Here’s the story—and how I turned heartbreak, chaos, and a busted car engine (you’ll see) into one of the most unexpectedly transformative years of my life.
The Break-Up: “It’s Not You, It’s Me” (But Also...It’s You)
Somewhere between Netflix binge #47 and the realization that my partner and I were wholly incompatible in any confined space longer than two hours, the cracks started to show. By “cracks,” I mean all-out arguments over things like how to properly slice an avocado and who really left the milk out.
When we called it quits, it should’ve felt freeing. Instead, it felt like getting the wind knocked out of me. Eight years together, dismantled like an IKEA shelf we never quite put together right in the first place. It turns out building a life together is a lot harder when you don’t have compatible instructions.
I did what anyone does post-breakup: I made an ill-advised haircut decision, started wearing a lot of chunky turquoise jewelry (a Santa Fe cliché—guilty!), and leaned heavily on the High Desert Margarita—a local staple, and lockdown or not, margaritas count as essential.
In hindsight, the relationship falling apart wasn’t the tragedy I thought it was. The real tragedy would’ve been staying the same person I was while in it—a person who doubted her instincts, hid behind politeness instead of speaking her truth, and compromised herself into someone I didn’t recognize.
The Career Crash: When the Art World Turns Its Back (Literally)
If breaking up was like erasing my relationship timeline, losing my job at the family gallery was like someone walking in and setting fire to the map of my future. COVID upended tourism in Santa Fe, and while my folks held on, business was at a crawl. Suddenly, my role—the one I’d thought I’d occupy forever—wasn’t needed.
I went from curating exhibits to cataloging regrets. Who was I outside of my career? Could I even write without that cozy armchair in the gallery corner where inspiration always found me? Turns out, writing when life feels unstable is like painting a sunset during a sandstorm—messy and hard to enjoy.
But here’s the bright side of being forced to question your direction: When everything falls apart, you can finally see what’s left underneath—and decide if maybe, just maybe, you want to rebuild differently.
The Literal Crash: Cars and Crisis
Now, let’s talk about the day my car burst into actual smoke on the side of Highway 285. Have you ever stood in 90-degree heat, clutching a paper plate of tamales (because if you’re going to break down, it’s best to do it after stopping at a roadside stand), while a tow truck driver sums up your whole year by saying, “Ooph, bad luck, huh?”
The car wasn’t worth fixing, but it was paid off, which meant shelling out savings for a replacement. And honestly, by this point, I thought the universe was just throwing plot twists to see if I’d crack.
Spoiler: I didn’t. Well, okay, there was one day when I ugly-cried into a lukewarm burrito, but overall, I traded breakdowns (the car kind and the emotional kind) for breakthroughs.
How I Put It Back Together: Lessons in Starting Over
Rebuilding your life isn’t a montage set to an upbeat indie song, no matter what the movies show you. It’s slow, awkward, and often feels like building IKEA furniture without the directions. But amid my mess, I found a few tools that worked.
1. Find Your Daily Rituals (Even Small Ones)
When the world feels untethered, carving out manageable habits goes a long way. For me, that meant morning coffee on the porch, sketching the silhouettes of piñon trees in the distance. It didn’t solve my problems, but it gave me pause—and in those pauses, I found space to breathe.
2. Ask Yourself, “Who Do I Want to Be Now?”
Scratch whatever old labels or roles you’ve been living under. For eight years, I was a girlfriend, a gallery curator, a responsible daughter of artist-parents. But who could I be without those titles? I dove into journaling, asking not “What do I do?,” but “What lights me up?” Big spoiler: Writing still felt like my truest path, but now, I was writing for me.
3. Let Go of What’s Not Working
Be honest—what’s not serving you? For me, that meant outdated ideas of what success looked like. It also meant admitting I’d clung to my car (and, frankly, my old relationship) beyond its usefulness, simply because I was scared of starting fresh. Letting go doesn’t come easy, but there’s lightness on the other side.
4. Get Comfortable With Impermanence
The desert’s a good teacher for impermanence. It shows you that seasons shift in unexpected bursts—the way a drought might end with a monsoon soaking the cracked earth overnight. I started embracing that metaphor in my everyday life: Nothing, not even a difficult season, lasts forever.
A Year Later: Why Falling Apart Wasn’t the End
By the time we ushered in 2021, I had a new car, a new outlook, and—dare I say it?—a new zest for life. Sure, some of my hopes had gone up in flames, but they cleared room for something better: authenticity.
I’m not going to tell you my life’s perfect now (nobody’s is, unless they’re a house cat). But for the first time, I feel like the life I’m rebuilding is actually mine—not a version of someone else’s expectations.
Here’s the thing: The year everything falls apart doesn’t have to break you. It can be a catalyst to find yourself. And if you’re standing in your own metaphorical ashes right now, let me tell you—it’s okay to be there. Just don’t stay too long. The view gets way better when you start piecing things back together.
From one desert wanderer to another, I promise: You’ve got this.
