It’s just a beautiful thing!
If I asked you what life is and you answered this, six months ago I would scream at you and say, “Are you for real?”
I couldn’t deny the fact that I have been miserably miserable (redundant?) for the second half of 2010. At that time I couldn’t help but feel sorry for myself. I want you to know why. I am not taking a justification of myself; I don’t even want you to understand me. I just want to put it into writing so that I could let go of it, fold it nicely, and tuck it under the sheets of misbehavior and some-not-believing-in-myself-clips of my life, and make it a nice reference if ever so I will encounter problems like these again.
It could have started after I lost a battle in the field of love and relationship. It could have been when I’ve graduated from college. It might have been sprouting as early as when I was in my senior year on high school. Or it might be rooted from the moment when I was a naïve, sensitive child and thought that I am not better because of what other people had said about me then. Oh there! I think I had pinpointed the dawn of the life of the faithless child. I became doomed the moment I take into consideration all the things that other people might say towards me.
Ever since I was a little girl, I had loved to hear praises from people. It makes me feel good when people appreciate what I think is the most fascinating thing there is. I have always wanted to hear affirmation on anything I want to do. I have big plans. I had dreamed big. I just forgot one thing: To believe in myself, to believe that I could actually achieve those plans, to believe that I will become who I should be.
Don’t get me wrong. A number of times, I fully believe in myself that I could do whatever. But I get uninspired easily. This is my ultimate weakness: Whenever I hear negative things about me, I let them in. I make them a poison in my system. I hold on to it. But behind that weakness, let me redeem myself—I take actions to prove people wrong. But…in the thirst of changing and proving myself, I tend to lose track, I make wrong decisions.
After I graduated, I thought, this is the moment of truth. Cliché, yes, but it really is. I had done well in my studies, modesty aside, thus the high expectations. Professors, classmates, friends, family—they’re all scrutinizing my steps as if I had prepared a big plan that would surprise them all. Surprised, they are! I had made a fool out of myself. I had felt I became the laughing stock. Of course my family and closest friends had supported me all the way. But I am not contented. Behind those spectators, there’s the biggest enemy—myself. I put a lot of pressure on myself. I didn’t take into consideration that I had to make one step at a time. But the drive to excel is too much of a force. I was blown away; I landed on the black hole. Now where am I? Where should I go?
The first month of 2011 had been pretty so-so. I am embracing the failures and bad decisions. But who am I kidding? I don’t want this. I couldn’t be like this forever. I’m turning 21, and I am still a mess.
I don’t know when and how but there’s one sentence that made me aim for it: “You take responsibility on your own decisions.” The decisions, no one else made it but you.
That is why I am doing this—taking responsibility of my actions. No matter how hard, no matter what people say. Yes, you read it right. I am freeing that obsessive me over the opinions of other people. It’s not wrong to take advices from experienced people but what I learned now, though I had been reading it a lot, is that you cannot really please everybody.
So to end this, ask me what life is.
My answer? Hell, this is life. You really don’t know what it is. And that makes it a beautiful thing.
No comments:
Post a Comment