My frustration with life is seeping from my pores. My true, authentic self is bagged and bored within me, screaming so loudly I can’t even hear it anymore. My life is no longer passionately my own. I have outgrown it; it’s as simple as that.
It's so obvious now, I’ve lived my life here, and it's time to move on. I guess for a long time I wanted to live here and be done, ready to settle. I found comfort in the belief that I could just be like everyone else. It's safer that way; no longer having to live with the consequences and judgements from being different, only to find myself even more burdened from the consequences of lying to everyone but myself. Or more accurately--from lying to everyone, especially myself.
It has become painfully apparent that I’m forcing something that isn’t meant to be. I don't belong here. The monotony and stifling nature of my work is more of a burden now than ever, and no one seems to understand. It’s getting to the point that my refusal to leave will force me to break at the seams, that in staying I’ll soon find this place to be suffocating; a bitter resentment of a life unlived and a woman unleashed. It is time.
That’s the thing about being authentic; it may take a while to forgive yourself of your fear, to move despite not having a roadmap of what lies ahead. I find myself frustrated with all those settling down, I’m frustrated and sad because I know that I am alone in my struggles to take this life for what it is worth… I am alone. But I guess I always have been. Deep down, we all are. The pain comes when you depend on others to complete you, to fill you with a sense of totality. I’ve had visitors lately, and I’m not quiet sure what I expected, but I know I didn’t feel it when they left. I think I was looking for complete acceptance, and in waving them goodbye, I felt empty instead. Their lack of enthusiasm for my life or the life I am looking to live was nothing short of heartbreaking.
I think it all comes down to letting everyone go. Until you let go of your worries of what others think, until you release the grip of whether or not others accept you, your life will never be passionately your own. Your decisions will never be made only for you; they’ll be tainted with neediness and frantic appeasing of those not even looking. Each life comes down to the individual that lives it. When the lights go out and you question yourself, what could possibly be a good enough answer for the one that is inadequate in their heart? For me, gaining the acceptance of others is superior to all else. The last two visitors I’ve had have left me feeling less than adequate. Why is this? I do a tap dance number with my hands in the air singing “ta-daaaa!” and crickets are heard. Nothing. What am I looking for? Once again, I am judging my adequacy based on the reactions of others. Maybe. They all said that I have a great lot in life–maybe it is ME that doesn’t believe it. If I felt it one hundred percent, I wouldn’t search it in the eyes of others.
So it all comes down to me. Apparently, deep down, I am unconvinced that this is the life for me. But it was, and it still should be–I want it to be–but it is no longer.
I can’t explain it, but I want more. There is more. I know it. This is the essence of life; change. I have changed, grown and expanded in this life here, and in staying past this year, it may be possible to regress thoroughly back into a despondent life.
A lesson to my confusion: no longer search for your validity in the eyes of others. No one will ever completely understand nor allow for the unconventional life you are dreaming of. You have to let this need go. Forgive yourself for needing this acceptance and then give it to yourself. Everyone has their own life, their own lessons to be learned, and they are moving full-force ahead with it. You cannot follow. You must forge your own path instead. Let go of other’s opinions. Let it be okay when they shrug their shoulders and hold hands in their confusion. This is your authentic life. If you don’t fight for it, no one else will. It will die along with your passion and breath and magnificence. In following someone else’s footsteps, you will trace yourself back into an early grave.
There is nothing left to say. Question everything. If it leads back to anything but you,