To Be, or, To Be…

What it feels like to be a broken window, incapable of allowing sunlight to pass.


The quote on the Home Page really resonated with me when I first read it. It was the script of an Instagram image posted by the account last.daze…

Screen Shot 2017-03-22 at 2.53.37 PM

The photo made me quite uncomfortable. I’ve always been more of a physically shy person, but I can assume I felt this way mostly because I do not resemble this girl at all, and part of me wishes I did. Regardless, the quote stuck in my mind so heavily that I scrolled back up my feed to save it. I wanted to reflect on the words, and how they made me feel, which besides uncomfortable, was raw. I felt like the words themselves were peeling back a layer of my humanity, and exposing what lay underneath. A part of me that I try very hard to hide. The part of me that feels equated to the imperfect broken window.

It got me thinking, mainly about my life (which I tend to overanalyze every few hours), and how I feel about who I am. I know that learning to “love yourself” is a big step in truly being happy with who you are and the life you live. I can accept that as fact. I sincerely want to be happy with the life I live, and the person I am, but I also definitely hate myself sometimes and regret a lot of my past. I can hear my mother now, “Don’t use the word hate!” but it’s true. I have such a deep disgust for the person who made me who I am today, without somehow being disgusted with who I actually am today… Does that make sense?

I know the choices I made shaped me, and I strongly believe that everything happens for a reason; every decision I made was exactly what needed at that time, and has developed the windows and doors that are open (or closed) in my life today. Though in my experience I can only ever see the reasoning in hindsight… But believing that, doesn’t mean I think they were the best decisions I could have made. And that also doesn’t mean I am happy with where my life has come to because of it. I used to tell myself that if I could go back and change things, I wouldn’t. That’s a lie. I’m lying to myself, and no matter how much I want it to be true, it just isn’t. I pretended to be the person who is satisfied with my life. I will wholeheartedly admit to the internet-verse that the truth is, I am not. I don’t know if I’m ready to say it out loud yet… And though I am not satisfied with my life, I am still me. I cannot change my past. I can only prevent the same mistakes in my future, and my future choices can shape me out of this hole I’ve dug for myself. I don’t necessarily know that, but I believe it…

So, the only choice I have to make right now is to accept that life just isn’t meeting my expectations. Accept that sometimes I hate who I am. Accept that I am not happy, today. But also promise myself that if I want things to change, I have to make those changes. I have to be a better me. And that is all I can do for today.

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