I wake up not knowing what to do with it and I go to sleep at night feeling weary and afraid of myself. Most of the times I forget how lucky I am – unable to be thankful for the opportunities given to me, the material things I have and the loved ones surrounding me. After all, I grew up surrounded by patchworks of indefinite dreams and limitless boundaries – now, in the reality of it all, especially with the fact that I need to start becoming my own woman, I grow afraid and meek.
I have always thought of adulthood as broken bones – a painful process of breaking your soul and allowing them to re-grow into something else. These days, I think of adulthood as a repetitive act of free-falling, never knowing where you are going to land but always surviving at the end of it all. Each fall brings in new circumspection – the push and pull factors of daily life becomes a necessity that seems malign and ineffective. I dream of carefree childhood days of false bravado – of the shallow pit of intelligence and the daringness to take on the world…this boldness I have lost. Now I am always uncertain of what I say, what I write and always, always feeling like Alice in Wonderland (but never as brave or as inquisitive).
Maybe adulthood hits us differently. Maybe I am a flower that is trying to bloom (how tragically flamboyant and idealized) or maybe I am meant to stay unopened for a very long time. I have no idea what is coming next, no idea of how I should live my life (always too afraid of the daily influences from social media that will dominate my choices and falsify my dreams). I mute my thoughts, my desires, my opinions – unsure of the influx of information, updates, newsfeed that I receive and wonder if I can ever return to the quiet non-Facebook/Instagram/e-mail days.
At the end of the day, the only battlefield I am facing is my mind and if I lay it all out – I should have bigger things to think about. After all, I am an island girl with mixed cultural background living in a city with a boyfriend that loves me to no end, a family that supports me endlessly and with everything and anything I could ever want – this is it. This is the life so many would have wanted and what I am wasting it for? Incessant thoughts of you-are-not-good-enoughs…how annoying can a human being get sometimes?
If I stop rejecting myself so much…maybe I will actually become something.
Who knows. Do you?