I lost myself. I felt I had no identity. Suddenly, everything I once was no longer existed. Surely, it wasn’t overnight. Maybe it came with each failed relationship, every time I did something to fit in or stuck with jobs and school that no longer felt right.

Why did I do these things? Stay in these relationships, continue to try and fit in, keep working a job that I hated, or going to school for something I didn’t enjoy. Why am I still doing them? Because someone somewhere said it was what I’m supposed to be doing?

My relationship was broken, my heart was in pieces, my self-worth felt non-existent, my parents now divorced, and I had no idea what I was doing with my life. But there I was left to put all of the pieces back together by myself.

Those were the hardest moments I had ever gone through, and I went through them alone.

Really, I’m still going through it. Is there ever a day you wake up and think “this is it! This is why I was put on this earth, I am satisfied?"

But I took the time to understand that what I was doing and who I was; was not who I wanted to be. I took the time to start finding myself, new love, new hobbies, and new friends. I found happiness in these things.

I still wonder how I got through it. That pain is still so vivid in my memory. The torture to just open my eyes every day, and how much strength it took to get out of bed.

Days, weeks, and months have gone by. The pain slowly started to feel dull, but I did not feel better. It felt masked.

I moved back to school, started my senior year, decided to quit drinking for a while, and I saw a counselor. I felt crazy at first. In fact, the first thing I had said to my counselor was “So you’re gonna think I’m crazy.”

But as I began to pour out my deepest thoughts to this stranger, as the tears started to flow, and my heart began to feel like it was breaking all over again, it hit me like a train.

I knew I felt this way the entire time, I knew I was unsure of what I would do after college, I knew I was holding on to failed relationships, I knew I was unhappy, and I knew this wasn’t who I wanted to be.

But for 22 years, I was okay with all of the unresolved issues because I had my parents, family, boyfriend, and friends to fall back on. But when ALL of those things are suddenly taken from you at the same time it became clear.

The problem was me. I never took the time to find myself. Get to know what I loved, what I was passionate for, and my purpose. When I was left in this mess alone that’s exactly what I needed to do.

So here I am learning, writing, blogging, and going on to find new things in life. For the first time in 22 years, I feel like I’m finally living. Not just waking up to go through the motions of the day but truly finding reasons to get out of bed, to strive for a better and more meaningful life.

And can I just say…

Damn, that feels good.