Once upon a time, I was a younger, more naive version of myself. High school was the time to test your limits and figure out what to do with your first taste of adult-like freedoms. After a disastrous freshman year, I vowed to stay far away from boys, and was wary about making new friends. I had no desire to make out with random people or hook up with anyone, and my elementary school relationships seemed to be the 'less drama' option when it came to having friends. My intentions were good; I wanted to grow up, avoid high school drama, the whole nine yards. I just laugh now.
Hindsight is 20/20, and I can't help but wonder where I'd be now if I had kept those promises to myself so many years ago. Thoughts cycle in and out of my head often, and I've accepted that I only waste my time going back and rethinking infinite hypotheticals. I've accepted each experience, the lessons I've learned, and the mistakes I've made. However, it's hard for me to let go knowing that I put my whole heart into people that aren't around anymore. Old inside jokes and memories resurface into my conversations sometimes, so it's hard to move forward with these constant reminders of the past.
I used to think I was noble or strong for loving without limits. But now, randomly feeling waves of sadness every time I think of friendships that have come and gone, I feel dumb for having so much empathy, for giving second and third chances, and for giving 100 percent to everyone around me. Don't get me wrong, all of these things are wonderful, but there's a line that needs to be drawn. When you give everything you have to those around you, it feels like you have nothing left to call your own. You feel drained and exhausted and helpless at the end of the day. When I gave 100 percent at all times, and I didn't get 100 percent back from those I loved so much, I didn't question their value or worth: I questioned my own, instead. When you love someone, you always want them to be happy. When I became so personally invested in the lives of those around me, I felt that their unhappiness was a personal failure of mine. People are constantly unhappy, for an infinite amount of reasons, so I felt this implicit 'failure' a little too much.
I still struggle, as does everyone else. There are too many people I have loved and lost, friends, family, and boys, and I constantly struggle to be OK with that. Occasionally, I still feel like my heart is being taken advantage of by those around me like I have in the past. I've been around self-centered people in college, but I'm getting better at having high quality people in my life, not a high quantity. It's hard coming to terms with all the let down and personal 'failure' I've experienced, especially when the people that surround me today have only known me for a short period of time. I've always feared I'd become jaded; I thought the day I stopped loving everyone unconditionally would be the day I wasn't myself anymore. I used to love that my empathetic heart was my biggest strength, but I've felt what it's like to have my strength used against me, and it's not fun. I've realized I appreciate those who are more deliberate and thought-out in their words and emotions, and I strive to be calm and collected in my daily life. I will always try to love those around me, but it's strangely liberating to know that creating boundaries between myself and others has opened up a new, healthier way of life for me.
"I have built a home for you in my heart; just know the door may not always be open, but it will always be unlocked."
