When I was a little girl I had grandiose plans for myself. I was to grow up and become vastly beautiful, rich, popular, and possess every ability I thought worth having. I would be the envy of everyone, with a long line of eligible suitors, trustworthy friends, and enough fame and popularity to quench my thirst. I was to be a dancer, an artist, a poet, a model, an actress, and a musician. These thing were worthy, these things were good.
When I was thirteen, I still expected and longed for these things. Seventeen came around, and my insecure little self still waited to be showered with my desires for these frivolities. I questioned everything about myself--my worth, my abilities, my own purpose. When would people start liking me? When would I begin growing into this perfect person I
naïvely set as my standard? Without these accomplishments I was miserable. I felt worthless, a shadow standing behind these expectations I created for
myself. Self created loathing was my only feat.
Now I'm twenty-one. I would like the next couple paragraphs to reflect on how I have overcome all these insecurities, but that would be a lie. I have, however, grown up. I have accepted that I'm beautiful enough to have attracted the love of the amazing man I am about to marry, I am smart enough to be content, I am clever enough to amuse myself, and creative enough to create art for my home and cook meals from scratch. I'm not the best, but I'm certainly not the worst. It may sting, but this is true: there will always be someone prettier, more talented, and smarter than yourself, so learning to love where you are is pivotal. Instead of focusing on hate and jealousy of yourself and others, why not channel that to acceptance and love.
For me, I set such vastly unrealistic standards for myself, they were impossible to meet. Disappointment, hurt, and shame were unavoidable. I selfishly wanted everything, even that which I could never have. In order to be a happy and functioning adult I had to realize that limitations are part of life, and most importantly, my life is going to be different from everyone else's.
I may not be a very popular person, but that is ok. I don't have 800 friends on facebook, I only have five followers on twitter, I don't have people calling to hang out with me that much, and sadly, I only have three people following my blog (ha). But that's ok. I'm really not bothered by it. I'm happy, I'm content, and I wouldn't change my life or where I am. Am I jealous of people with lots of friends? Not really. What I am a little jealous of is the people who have a few
really amazingly close friends. Friends who are more like sisters. But I these things will come in time. I'm not worried. I'm
content, and accepting where I am puts a smile on my face. There are so many beautifully amazing people in this world, so instead of being jealous, I'm going to enjoy what they bring to the world.
POST EDIT:
My conclusion to everything is not to be sad and accept that I can't have these things in a self pitying way, but rather that I do not need most of them. I have my suitor, my own abilities, and my own life perfectly tailored to fit who I am. What else could I possibly need?
Last night I took my fiancé to the Franklin Park Conservatory for his birthday. While getting ready, I did my usual thing of standing on one foot and hopping around until I nearly (or actually) fall over. Why, you ask? That is how I put on shoes. Last night, like most, I toppled over and hit the wall. Despite my throbbing shoulder, I stood right back up to hop around and put on the other shoe. Once my shoes were successfully on my feet, I stopped to think: why do I make things as difficult as possible on myself? A sensible person would sit down. This is how I go about a lot of things in life. I don't take the sensible route that brings peace to my life. Now my goal is to find out why...
