Growing up I was always told that I alone controlled my happiness. I had the power within me to decide to face my life, and to face it with a smile. But I have learned that in real life, sometimes you aren't gonna get dealt the royal flush you always wanted.
Recently, after a month of passive aggression between my roommate and me, she decided to come wake me up at 3:30 in the morning by beating on my door with a group of people I had never met and threaten me and insult me, screaming at me that I had stolen her hangers. She then stole multiple of my things, including the keys to my bedroom door, and damaged my shoes out by the front door.
I remember everything vividly: gripping my boyfriend's hand and closing my eyes, hoping the hall light would turn off, shaking for two hours straight. Feeling my anger be pushed down by fear and sorrow.
A few hours later, the police told me there was nothing I would be able to do. They asked "Why didn't you call 911 right away?" and told me that everything I accused her of was "hearsay."
The entire situation left me traumatized. I began not being able to sleep, and became on edge about something as slight as someone knocking on my door. I moved back in with my mom, committing to a 30-minute commute back and forth to my university each day. I felt vulnerable and desolate, falling back into a depression that was all too familiar to me.
But as I started to settle into this stressful sadness, I began to understand that a majority of it was caused by others expecting me to pack up and move on. It's not that easy. I had been violated, the police refused to help me, I was in pain. I was scared.
But I have the platform to share this pain with you. So, if you are reading this today, I want you to know there is nothing wrong with being sad. You are not lesser because you "let something get to you." Having a bad day doesn't mean you're letting other people down. You are lesser if you hurt someone and steal their happiness. Maybe we should begin teaching our kids that they are allowed to feel depressed, but that they are not allowed to inflict this sadness on someone else instilling fear and anger within them.
I have learned that maybe I don't have the power in me to be happy about my sleepless nights, the terrifying flashbacks, the discomfort and the legal struggles, but, after it all, I have the unwavering power of forgiveness. And if I can't strive for happiness, at least I can strive to forgive. And isn't that more important?
