There used to be a time when I would spend hours with this blog. Considering that I’ve had this blog since I was sixteen, the times I’ve spent it with are countless. I’ve spent a considerable amount of time with it in libraries, hunched over in net shops when they were the in thing. It has transistorized with me from one job to another, and in a way, it has seen me go from being an idealistic, wide eyed, Princess Mia loving sixteen year old into a still lacking rationality mid 20s yuppie.
There was also a time when I poured my heart and soul into this blog. Back when I started this a good nine years ago, blogging was some sort of self-expression, a secret digital diary you kept from those who did not know your URL. I remember exchanging comments with classmates who also had blogs of their own. It was a little world filled with anecdotes and writing didn’t mean I exposed my feelings to the entire world.
The advent of the microblogging site Twitter made it easier to air out thoughts in the middle of the day while Facebook made it essentially easier to share our lives with others. We are instantly connected, and sometimes, all you need is a good unplug.
I often go through posts of my past and while I could snicker endlessly about my optimism, I couldn’t help but envy my younger’s self drive to get the good in life. She was sickeningly optimistic and idealistic. Highly deadly combinations, but she was determined to have the good in life, no matter what it took. Her faith didn’t depend on her, or what she did, but on who she had faith on.
I didn’t know much back then, yet my faith was bridled with such strong belief that I couldn’t help but wonder if studying too much on a subject took away the essence of it. Before I believed, now I find myself questioning the things I believed in. What made me believe in it so strongly?
When I was younger, older people would always tell me that life would leave you jaded sooner or later. I refused to believe them, if there’s anything I was, it was optimistic. I refused to believe that I was going to be jaded.
But 3 months into being 25, I finally felt the weight of the world and the essence of those who used to shake at my sunshine all is well attitude.
Man, life is tough.
No admitting that it’s tough isn’t going to make it go away. For the longest time, I refused to believe that life was tough. I thought all my “the secret” moves was going to work and make all the hurt go away.
Well, it didn’t. Life really isn’t the fairy tale I’ve always hoped for.
It’s gritty. It’s challenging. And yes, there are just days when you want to put your hands up in complete surrender. What’s even more frustrating is the fact that you’re not supposed to talk to anyone about how you feel.
It’s as if being true to who we are, especially in the land of “say anything social media” is frowned upon. Keep your feelings to yourself, don’t show people that you’re about to break. Don’t say this, don’t do that. Doing that will make you feel like a fool. Admitting that you’re in over your head will refute everything you believe in.
It’s a tiring cycle and may be the reason why this blog has been quiet for sometime. My bestfriend calls it the quarter life crisis, and while I agree with her, it’s possibly also because I’ve been trying to control my life because it has to be perfect all the time. Your emotions aren’t valid and the words you type must not betray the perfect life you project on your social media account.
Life is tiring. Life is taxing. And sometimes, no matter how much of a jolly good fella you are, it still doesn’t turn out the way you want it to.
Now while I know how life works, I have a choice. I can choose to close my eyes to its reality, or I can choose to accept life for what it is and still find the good parts in it.
I can also pretend to be that kind of girl who doesn’t feel anything, or I can choose to be me: the girl who loves words too much to not use it as a form of expression.
I can choose to mope, sulk, and cry my eyes out, or I can choose to cry for awhile, accept the sometimes sad reality of life, and get going.
The other great thing is also the fact that although life isn’t what I expected for it to be at the beginning it’s still radically filled with possibilities. My greatest mistake is looking too long at the possibilities that didn’t work instead of looking the other way, the other direction where I can finally find the happiness or stability I long for.
Also, letting go is another thing I need to do. While I’ve always subconsciously thought that letting go meant letting the other person run free, it actually means giving God the chance to do what only He can do. It’s not particularly easy, but that path is always easier.
My road back to recovery as Little Miss Sunshine may take awhile but I find myself smiling a bit because finally I took the first step: acceptance.
