Have you ever seen someone complete an act so ridiculously idiotic and naive, that you think to yourself; I will never do something so stupid. Ever.
I have, and let me tell you- I was naive too, and so very wrong.
I would walk down the street and see people whom I’d never met, or never cared to ask why they looked or acted the way they did, and tell myself that that would never be me. I was always so busy convincing myself of who I wasn’t or who I wouldn’t be; that I forgot to be anyone at all- and it’s the biggest regret I think I’ll ever have.
There are so many mistakes I made. So many choices that I rushed to make because I was blind to how fragile life’s plan for me really is. The consequences of even the tiniest of actions or the quietest of words have the potential to be mountainous.
I lived in a constant state of make-believe. Again and again, I would fall down and tell myself that it would be okay- because someone was going to show up to save me.
To those who knew me, I was strong and could do anything I set my mind to. I was confident in my beliefs and I was too stubborn to fail. Friends would laugh about my levelheaded nature and unwillingness to just let go and be irresponsible. Adults would tell me how brave and smart I was; no matter how often I tried to say that I was tired of being strong- that maybe I didn’t want to be brave for just five minutes. They would smile and tell me that they believed in me; that they were proud of how unstoppable I was. Eventually, I began to think that it wasn’t so much who I was- but who everyone else expected me to be. And so on the outside, I complied.
Truthfully, though, I was a little lost. I was tired and needed someone to tell me that that was okay.
However, throughout the day I acted strong and confident about my choices, and by night I would become tired from trying to be that way. Once the lights were out, my head upon my pillow and the comforter tucked under my chin, I could release the facade that had unintentionally become second nature. And with that came my vice; my imagination.
I would think up a ‘prince charming’ coming to save me; a man to make all my difficult tasks easy, to chase away the stress of the real life I convinced myself I truly hated. I became the hero of an adventure so wild and crazy that I was forced to crash back to earth again every morning. Yet, no matter how hard the fall, I would only climb higher the next chance I got. I would clutter my mind with tales of werewolves and dragons, or dress up the boring day to day happenings with magic; only to miss out on what was really happening around me. I conditioned myself to be let down with the real world over and over again, and I knew it, but I hadn’t cared at the time. I was disappointed with my life and so, I created a different one.
One of the hardest things I had to do, was get up, and tell myself that I couldn’t keep waiting for someone to save me. I was going to have to get out there and learn to be me; and with lots of hard work, just maybe, I wouldn’t hate her when I did.
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