It was early morning. Like, the kind of early morning you only get after staying up all night to see the sun rise, or when you’re out for your morning run just in time to see the fog rescinding as the pavement heats up. On this morning, I woke up to see the colors in the sky a little differently.

I had been sad for a long time.

My body felt sad, and it manifested in brain sluggishness, being too tired to work out after classes, and feeling like no amount of Tylenol or hot tea could shake the uneasy oldness that had crept into my being.

My mind was sad. I had felt stress insidiously force my happiness into a corner; I felt like I was putting on a brave face just to appease the people around me. Irritability followed the sadness, which followed the stress, which followed the general unhappiness with life quality. It was like an unnerving circle of self-loathing. Life was frustrating-- I was so sad and frustrated.

This was the reality I had come to know before: wake up, pull on clothes, class, driving in my car, nap, eat something sort of decent, homework, work, sleep, repeat.

But on this particular morning, I woke up and felt different. I felt like walking on the trails; me, energized? I craved mental and physical healthiness; I craved the happiness I had seen around me for so long. And as I walked along, watching the sky unfold ahead of me, I realized my fault in allowing for my life to become an enabler for my sadness. If I wanted happiness, I needed to stop chasing it and just let it be.

That morning, while the ground was still wet with condensation and cars hadn’t left their driveway homes yet, I made the plan to be happy. I stopped tolerating people who only pushed me farther down the rabbit’s hole. I decided, instead, to put myself in situations with people who beamed sunshine and could only make me a better person. I made the executive decision to start enjoying my classes at school, and do my homework in advance of the deadline, and join groups of people that could further me and my capabilities.

As I approached home, I learned that I needed to make time for myself. I needed to not give so much of my thoughts to those who took away from me without giving anything in return. I decided to lead a life that I love and surround myself in the things that would eradicate sadness.

I decided, that morning, to grow.

I’ve started to regain energy. I feel like after this short amount of time that I already have so much love to give. I’m starting to pick up hobbies I quit long ago due to stress and apathy, and I’m gaining new interests in the process.

I’m still working. I’m still trying to make sure I eat enough, sleep enough, enjoy myself enough while being productive. But I’m already on my way back up. I’m not perfect, and I’m not searching for an unobtainable happiness. Not anymore. The happiness I’m gaining is completely organic.

No, one morning wasn’t different in that it was considerably more beautiful, or anything like that. The sun didn’t shine brighter, the world didn’t suddenly feel like it needed me more. I just started to feel more need to be genuine—with others, and with myself. That’s all it was, me deciding to pick up where I left off, and start being the human I once chased after relentlessly. And it’s been working out pretty well.