âIâm in love with who I amâ
She was in another episode of self-loathing as she recalled the days that she could say that sentence and actually believe it.Â
Apparently, she no longer is. She can only mutter, "I'm in love with who I used to beâ.
She sat down in her room completely clueless as to who she was. She used to know though; but as she grew older, sheâs learned to adapt to different things and mold herself to become a different person. Every time she went through a milestone, she would somehow find herself becoming different -- improved, maybe, but also, sometimes, a little bit damaged.
But despite that, she used to know who she was, and would often find the time and stop for a moment to realize, âOh hey. This is the me now, and Iâm in love with who I amâ. But at this moment, she couldnât quite say it. She couldnât quite make everything coherent.
Maybe because everythingâs a mess and at this point, the pieces of herself are too far from each other. Nothing makes sense. Sheâs been broken so many times, and finally too damaged, that the pieces can no longer form anything-- theyâre merely the remnants of what used to be.
A lot of her friends keep telling her that if people knew who she really was, theyâd fall in love with her in a heartbeat.
But she couldnât see that.
âI think most people fail to realize that the things they like about me are the ones Iâve already started changing. Thatâs what you do when you keep seeing things to hate about yourself; you try to change them. So itâs difficult for me to understand how people can like me for who I am because most of the time, itâs a different me they like-- itâs the one I used to be.â
âI mean, sure, you keep changing, but that doesnât mean that you lose yourself entirely. Think of it this way, you shed the bad to make way for the good. So thereâs always good. So yes, you may be changing, but thereâs always some stuff that remains. And, I guess, thatâs who you are. The entirety of what you choose to remain in your system.â
She was speechless.
It was true. What she knew, for certain, was that she kept trying. She kept on improving. She kept on trying to shed the bad to get the good things in; and even though it can be confusing at some points because she was essentially losing parts of herself, she always, ALWAYS, got reborn.
âAnd, thatâs what I loved about you. You were always trying. You canât keep thinking that the âyouâ before is better than the âyouâ now just because it looks different and uncertain; youâre just under construction. Youâre supposed to look broken, youâre supposed to look unfinished, but youâre bound to become someone youâve always dreamed of building.â
It was true. Sheâs finally the kind of girl who would never settle for, âI am in love with who I am.â Instead, she always chased for, âIâm in love with who I am becoming.â
In that moment, she accepted that she may not know herself now fully, and she may always be changing, but she knew, that in all her phases and colors, itâs the same her thatâs always been beautiful -- just viewed in a different angle, one with the better lighting.
But more importantly, she also knew, that through her struggles and consequent changes, she'd want him around -- witnessing all of it.
