It occurred to me recently that I actually have no idea who I am right now.
I USED to have a fantastic sense of who I was, so much so that I refused to deviate from the path that I (and others) had set out for me. Please, I could never be a leader, I could never write anything halfway decently, and I can’t wear crop tops because my boobs are too small and I can’t wear tiny shorts because I have too much leg hair and it takes forever in the morning to shave, I can’t get good grades in university, I can’t make new friends, I could never be interested in anyone else. And on and on the list goes.
This sounds bad, but it isn’t really. I loved my old life. I did. I’m still sad and heartbroken that it’s over. But let’s face it, that path isn’t working for me anymore, and it’s not working for anyone else involved either. Who knows why, but the reasons aren’t really important – it is what it is. Now what do I do?
I’ve been asking myself that question for the past 4 months. I thought this was going to be the summer that we learned how to hold on to what we had, as much as possible, but it turned out to be the summer that I learned to let go. It became apparent before summer even technically started that that was what I was going to have to do, I just refused to see it. I did, I always do at one point or another, but that’s a shitty feeling, so I choose not to feel that way. I choose to try to make it better. Every time. And it works for a while. But not for long enough. People tell me that I’m bad at choosing to be happy, to change my thoughts, etc. but that’s not true – I’m actually really GOOD at that. When I want to be. Too good. I can believe that I have a chance when I don’t. I can see love where it doesn’t exist.
Last year I let this ruin my ENTIRE summer, almost. And it nearly ruined this one, too. But right at the end I decided – not this time. I’m reclaiming these last 3 weeks. I’m just gonna do me.
But wait – who is me?
Who AM I when I walk away from someone I love? Who am I when I stop trying? Trying is my LIFE. I’m the girl who tries way too hard, who puts everything into people she loves. And I’m weirdly proud of that.
Now I’m someone else. I don’t know who yet.
But does that have to be quite as scary as I’ve been making it seem? Not really. It can be exciting if you’re optimistic about it. It can be great, if I’m as passionate about finding NEW things and people to be passionate about as I was about my old life.
And I’ve already made some progress. I have Active Minds, which is my child, and I’m in my last year of school, so as a reward/experiment I’m taking a creative writing class. I have my internship, which is over now but it was still cool. I’m going to start blogging for them and hopefully stay connected (spoiler alert – I might be getting a job. Like one where I get paid). I have new friends and they’re awesome, even if one of them is going to Ireland for 6 million years (CHARLOTTE) and some of them are leaving the country permanently in a few months. I’m oddly invested in Taylor Swift and Marianas Trench, who both have new albums coming out this fall (THE STARS HAVE ALIGNED, FINALLY), which is awesome. TV shows are starting up again. I am also oddly invested in those. I have cats and cute clothes and cute hair and cute shoes and cute handbags and a new chair. I got a new high score the last time I played 2048.
So maybe these are steps in the right direction, even if it’s not the final destination. And although they may seem unimportant, a lot of little steps can add up to a pretty substantial leap. I have to convince myself that those things, like work and school, are not just “important” or “necessary” but meaningful. Just as meaningful as the things I had before. I have to stop telling myself that everything is superficial and won’t lead me to true happiness. Probably not, not on their own, but maybe this is just the beginning. I doubt that my new dress is going keep me warm at night, but maybe it will make me feel more confident the next time I’m with someone I like. Maybe they’ll lead me to finding even more good things – like a yellow brick road leading me on a winding journey to Oz.
So let’s see what happens. The next chapter starts now.
And we were dancing, dancing
Like we’re made of starlight, starlight
Like we dream impossible dreams
Don’t you see the starlight, starlight?
Don’t you dream impossible things?