You choose whether you are happy or sad. You decide how the day is going to be. You are strong enough to ignore the pressure. You can be whoever you want. You will exceed every expectation set for yourself. You are enough. At least, these are the things I try to convince myself every day, hour, and minute as I go through pretending to be fine with every problem, critique, and tragedy.
But what if it’s not okay? What if I can’t rise up and seize the day, but instead continue lying to myself and those who tell me that I am better than I believe and stronger than I can imagine. Who am I to tell someone else that everything will work out when I don’t even believe the next hour will pass without self-doubt invading almost every one of my thoughts? This is where you tell me that everyone feels this way. Everyone has tough days. But this isn’t a tough day, it’s a gruesome life dragging yourself around and doing so much with no goal, no inspiration.
I still let others define me. I still let grades define me. I have become a better person, but I’m starting to realize that better may not be good enough. Maybe it’s time to accept it. Or, maybe not. Maybe it’s time to finally kick myself into gear and become the person that I have been trying to convince myself I can be. A person who doesn’t always care what people think and who doesn’t sacrifice her life for an A. Perhaps not being the perfect, or even amazing, person I have imagined will allow me to excel, love, and inspire without killing myself from the inside out.
It took me one month into college to realize this, only one month. I’m a rapidly changing individual in a constant, yet new world. A couple months ago I was lying on my bed and now I’m journeying on my own into Boston every weekend. Each trip brings a new realization about who I am and where I want to go. Adventure has lured me in and clutched on as I attempt to live the “normal” college life and stay in my dorm room, but I simply can’t stay in the sweet comfort of my bed when there is a mystery calling out, waiting to be discovered if I just take the leap to find it. I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s okay to have this eternal love-hate relationship with my life. It’s not something to mourn about or try and change, because I can always make it another minute, hour, or day if I remember to not judge life for its cruel and harsh nature, but value life for its beauty and intrigue.
