February Is Alisha’s Official Month of What If?
By Alisha Fernandez Miranda
My New Year’s resolutions start in February. If you don’t scoff baked goods and cap each evening with a large glass of red wine, what else is there to do in January? I have yet to find a better way to pass the time in the darkest, coldest, most miserable month of the year.
Although February is also a dark and cold month, it is the month in which I was born. Having a February birthday is not without its challenges, mostly for my husband, who gets a raw deal on Valentine’s Day as a result. The heart-filled holiday tends to be more of an appetizer to the main event of the season: the celebration of my own personal new year and the annual appearance of “The Birthday Itch.”
This is not a gross kind of itch, like if you haven’t washed your bra recently (or ever). It’s a euphemism for my formidable desire to do something—anything—novel and different, in a hurry. It appears in the middle of the night while I’m lying in bed, as I walk to pick the kids up from school, and when I’m brushing my teeth. It’s an annual alarm telling me it’s time for a change.
The Birthday Itch has manifested itself in many ways over the course of my life. Sometimes, it’s been relatively measured, like when I decided to get a “stylists’ choice” cut-and-color at a training salon in London, and ended up with a short bob and a streak of bright red. What did I expect for £5? There have also been February attempts at self-improvement: a quick search of my browser history reveals that this is the time of year when I aggressively Google new classes, ill-advisedly convinced that this will be the year I finally learn tap-dancing, French, and macro-economics.
But other years have yielded more significant change. I’ve bought not one, but two new houses in February (not in the same February—I’m not Jeff Bezos); I came home with a puppy on a cold February day; and Leap Day 2020 was the official start date of My What If Year, the events detailed in my new book, when I abandoned my comfortable career as a CEO to take internships at the dream jobs of my childhood.
All this is to say: poor Carlos. Amidst all the fanfare and excitement of making mammoth alterations to my life, the holiday devoted to our love is relegated to second fiddle. I try to focus on chocolates and sappy cards and candlelit meals, at least for the duration of Valentine’s Day. But by the time we get to dessert, I’ve turned my attention to the Who, What, When, Where, and Why of this year’s Birthday Itch.
Carlos and I have been a couple for almost 20 years. We were introduced by our grandmothers at age 22 while studying in London. Our lives back then—separate, but immediately intertwined—were characterized by blissful possibility and optimism. We could go anywhere, and do anything. The first year of our relationship, we took ourselves to Venice, Italy, for Valentine’s Day (but, really, my birthday). The plane tickets were £14 and the hotel was charged to a credit card that took us years to pay off. But it didn’t matter. The world was our oyster and our paths were multitudinous. We took each other’s hands and set out for a lifetime of adventure.
But life doesn’t remain that way for long. There are jobs, responsibilities, career paths and promotions, mortgages, and children, and one day you wake up and the multitude has vanished. There’s now one path in front of you, and it seems rather narrow. There may be detours and off-ramps, but, after a certain age, they’re not usually fulfilling ones. The days no longer seem to hold opportunity, but familiarity and routine.
Carlos finds this comforting. He grew up moving around, attending three high schools on three continents in four years. He loves nothing more than going to the same coffee shop every morning, where they know his name and his order. He craves stability—a natural nester. As we’ve grown older, this need has become greater. I drag him out with me, but at heart he is a homing pigeon circling until he finds his loft again.
Leap Day 2020 was the official start date of My What If Year, the events detailed in my new book, when I abandoned my comfortable career as a CEO to take internships at the dream jobs of my childhood.
I’m the opposite. I lived in the same city until I was 18, leaving only for college. When I first went abroad, I became obsessed with traveling. I loved the way being out of my comfort zone made me feel: exotic, mysterious, unmoored. I still experience immense joy when visiting a new place, learning the lay of the land, and trying to make it my own. I know the best place to get a cappuccino in at least 20 different cities around the world, and counting.
I love my husband deeply, but this divergence can be troubling, and never more so than in February. The entire Valentine Industrial Complex asserts that we should be focusing on our affection for each other and, sure, I do that. But in the same breath, I’m searching for cooking classes in Jakarta and Bangkok.
“Where are you going now, Columbus?” has become his constant refrain. It’s not entirely affectionate.
So what have we done to address our shifting priorities and changing needs as we grow? How do we make sure we grow together, and not apart, as time goes on? It’s no big secret, but I’ve never seen it on a box of chocolates: compromise.
I don’t purport to be a marriage expert. As a general rule of thumb, I shy away from proffering parenting or relationship advice, especially in print. That would be the first thing quoted if you announce your divorce or your kid is shipped off to rehab. But the notion of compromise is so basic that I have no qualms about restating it. You give a little and take a little. You sacrifice some, and so does your partner. Sometimes you actively dislike them and occasionally resent them, but that’s ok. Eventually, like a well-made boomerang you could buy in Australia (Australia! We should go to Australia!) it all comes back around.
I’m proficient at compromising, but Carlos is better. To his eternal credit, when February comes around, and I have once again hatched a wild and crazy plan for this year’s great adventure, he doesn’t roll his eyes (to my face). He might emit a sigh, but, generally, he’ll be up for it, although we both know he’d rather stay home, binge-watching Star Trek or playing MarioKart with the kids and getting take-out from our favorite Chinese place—the one where they already know we don’t want chili in our honey chicken. He’ll pull out the suitcase, or polish my tap shoes, or fish out the French-English dictionary. He’ll always be along for the ride.
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Alisha Fernandez Miranda is the author of a coming-of-middle age memoir, My What If Year, from Zibby Books (out today). Detailing her year of unpaid internships in the dream jobs of her childhood, the book follows Alisha on her quest to figure out what might have happened if her life had taken a different path. Her story has been featured in Business Insider and Moms Don’t Have Time to Write.
Alisha is also a co-author of 50 Years: Kinloch Lodge, a culinary celebration of one of the Isle of Skye’s most exceptional hotels, and the host of the award-winning Quit Your Day Job, a new podcast that takes you behind the scenes of your dream jobs.
Alisha is a Cuban-American, born and raised in Miami, who has spent her adult life in New York and London. She is currently based in Scotland.
Catch her on tour here.