I don’t know if I will ever get what I want. I’m pretty certain I will lose and fail many, many times again. I will spiral into the pit of my depression and wish I could disappear because trying endlessly and not knowing my effort will ever amount to anything is exhausting and agonising.
I used to be in love with a hipster European boy. He was everything I wasn’t (and still am not). He rode a bike to work and around the city.
It’s terrifying to have to make all the important decisions not knowing if they are the right ones. But it’s also liberating and wonderfully exciting because I get to make all the important decisions. I get to live my life the way I think is best for me and this is all what matters.
I’m tired of feeling like there’s something wrong with me, of explaining myself, of trying to seek approval from the people who have no intention to see me kindly at all. I’m sick of trying so fucking hard to be seen. I just can’t do it anymore. I’m not perfect. I’m terribly flawed. I can be a mess. I’m not for everyone. And I accept it.
I know myself now. Whatever you think or say about me, or do to me, doesn’t change my value, doesn’t change the fact that there are many, many people out there who love me and think the world of me.
I’ve made bad decisions. I’ve been extremely irrational. I’ve done things that made absolutely no sense. And I realize for the most part, it was because I had no idea what my priorities and values were.
I will be patient. I will open my mind, my heart. I will be selective about who I let in. I will give my all to those who are in and choose to stay.
Being strong isn’t putting up a cold, hard exterior to protect myself from getting hurt again. Being strong is loving and showing I care regardless. More than that, it means loving myself and choosing happiness every single day. And being strong is also being able to walk away from things that aren’t meant for me.
I know our lives are different but if you take a good look around you and within you if you put your energy in the right things and right people, those who choose you and see your values, you will have a completely different perspective — a positive one that’s worth living for.
It is harder and takes much longer for me to fall in love but once I do, I fall deep and for the right reasons.
If you loved yourself, you would accept your past, your flaws and every wrong turn you take. You would give yourself the permission to be imperfect, to make mistakes, to get lost in a pair of ocean-blued eyes and live life to the fullest. If you loved yourself, you would forgive yourself.
A smart woman is also aware of her privileges, disadvantages and weaknesses. She doesn’t try to hide them but she faces them and grows with them.
When life gives you lemon, it sucks but it’s okay that it sucks. It’s okay to cry — even cry in the pouring rain alone at a random bus stop. It’s okay to have no one by your side, to be passed by like a shadow on a busy street. Let it all be and let it all out.
I’m writing to you because I want to remind you of this important stage of our life, that at 21 life has come to a point of no directness but you have stayed strong and given all that you’ve got.
During my Freshman year (including four months of summer), I have tried various things and made plenty of mistakes. New people came into my life to bring out the best and worst of me.
Being a girl is hard because my body and sexuality is somehow everyone’s business. I’m judged for the clothes I wear, the people I’m with and every little choice I make about what to do with my own body.
We’re full of cliches, missed opportunities and heartbreaks but hey, it’s what it’s like to be young. It’s what it’s like to be human. It’s all part of the fun.
Who knows what will happen — Isn’t it the best part of this unpredictable life?
Please stop blaming, criticizing yourself so much. Give your precious body a break because she so deserves that. She has done a great job keeping you active, healthy, functional and yes, alive.
Keep going because if you don’t, you will live a life full of what-ifs, of envy, a life of a coward who admits defeat at the first failure.