It is inevitable that as you grow up you learn things, not only about yourself but about others, and sometimes those lessons are not nice to learn. Sometimes they hurt. Sometimes they leave physical scars, sometimes they leave emotional scars, and sometimes they leave you with that weird melancholy feeling.
Recently I have learnt a lot of things about a lot of people. I have learnt love, patience, determination, and how to take care of myself.
Love is one of those magically beautiful things that can either completely consume and ruin you, or it can make you more yourself than you ever thought. Luckily for me, I have had the gift of experiencing a lot of love in my life, and also a lot of heartbreak, regret and rejection, but I guess that’s part and parcel of being in love.
It wouldn’t be worth it if there was no fear of losing everything
Recently I have been going through a lot… my family member is very sick, and I found out some rather upsetting health news. When you’re going through stuff you often hear things like ‘everything will be okay’, ‘you have amazing friends’, or ‘you’re loved’, but those things don’t really help until you love yourself.
Loving yourself doesn’t necessarily mean being full of yourself. It doesn’t mean that you walk into a room feeling like the most amazing person there. It does mean that you have processed everything, or at least a lot of what you’re going through.
It has taken me six months, moving out of my house, moving back into my house, losing some dear friends, and a broken heart to learn that I need to love myself. I was burying my pain and hiding behind painful distractions. I was trying to make myself feel more loved by others by becoming someone I wasn’t. I got too used to putting on that face we all know too well, and I forgot to take it off.
I won’t lie to you. I still have a lot of shit going on, and I am still a massive mess, but I’m slowly cleaning the mess inside of my head, and I’m getting happier.
I wish I knew why we all go through this. Why do we get so unhappy and not realise until it’s too late? Why do we allow ourselves to get buried by our insecurities? I guess if we knew the answer a lot of our problems would be solved.
I sometimes ask myself if I would go back. If I was to turn back the clock to a sixteen-year-old me who seemingly had their shit together, was madly in love, went to the gym (of all things), would I be happy? I’m not the same person that I was three years ago, hell, I’m not the same person I was yesterday, but in a weird way I am happier.
I’ve learnt how to love, more than I thought possible, I’ve learnt how to mourn, how to cry, how to pick myself back up, I’ve learnt how to be myself, I’ve learnt that I can say no, I’ve learnt that I have a voice, and I have learnt how to be happy in my own skin, regardless of my size, my weight, or whether my legs touch.
I’ve learnt that taking a night to yourself, to binge American Horror Story, put on a face mask and have a scalding hot shower can be as therapeutic as anything. I have never appreciated all of the lessons that I have learnt more than what I do today, and I have never appreciated my friends so much in my life.
I guess it’s true, it’s the little things that matter.
I know that this blog post is a little different from my usual posts, but I wanted to show a more human side of me. Writing this was therapeutic, it closed the door on a lot of the things that I was still worried about. It’s daunting to open up like this on a platform in case you get ridiculed, but it’s more important that you do the things that you love without fear of being judged.