Love – Firsts

I am not an expert in childhood since, after all, I only ever had one, and it was an odd one at that, but I feel like every day I defy every single idea of what I ever thought I would accomplish in life when I was a child. Another day, another breath, another ‘first’, another year. Maybe not everyone had such a difficult time imagining their future as a child — picturing the responsibilities and freedoms of adulthood, or comprehending the possibility of really having their own life someday. But I did, and I still do to some extent. For so long I’ve focused on what went wrong, what tore my happiness apart, what broke me, but I have resolved during these past few months to focus instead on creating myself and creating a life of my own. A real life of my own. A life in which I can wake up and feel content with every single part. And if ever I should stumble upon parts that tumblr_modkhoFi8K1qggg7co1_500do not provide me any growth or happiness, or that compromise who I am or the person I strive to be, I will eliminate them without guilt or remorse. Slowly but surely, like my father always said. I’ll get there even if I spend the rest of my life doing so.

The hardest but best lesson that I have learned in the past few years is that it is better to be alone than to compromise core parts of yourself that define you. It turns out that there are some prices that are just too high after all. I am no longer afraid of loneliness. I am and have always been lonely and I probably always will be, to some extent, and I am comfortable with that in a way I never have been before. I have seen people who are “alone” even as they age, and I see that they can still be happy and comfortable with themselves.  I see that I can still be happy. My fears have been all wrong, you see? I’ve been so afraid of being alone that I never stopped to realize that what I need to focus on is just being. Being aware of and present in every moment, letting myself feel sad sometimes and not letting it consume me. The same goes for happiness.

There are holes in me that no one else but me will ever be able to mend. And that’s OK.