The Never Ending War of the Internal Battle.
I am jealous of people that say their journey of self-discovery was between the ages of 0-18. I wonder how it must feel to already have everything figured out; to know your destiny. My friend and I joke about why we couldn’t be child prodigies. To be so good at something, everyone expects you to do just that. Conversations of your future would not be paved with ‘you can do anything that you set your mind to’, although I do think that I would still have the same amount of anxiety if I knew my destiny. I would worry if it was really my destiny, and whether I was actually in the process of achieving it or merely on my way to failure. If you don’t know what your destiny is, at least no one can truly decide if you are a failure or not. That is all up to you.
I thought finding myself would be a fun experience. No, wait. That isn’t the right term, more like a painless experience. It would be filled with traveling, joining random clubs/organizations, trying new hobbies, and meeting interesting people. Well the experience is filled with those things, but it is also filled with pain and hardship. The times that I have truly discovered something about myself have been some of the hardest times of my life, and that didn’t really start until I was 18.
The road to self-discovery is paved with blood, sweat, and tears. On the outside everything looks fine. But on the inside I feel like a wrecking ball is swinging and crashing into me, a skyscraper. With every intense blow to my structure, what I thought I knew crumbles around me. I am standing alone; exposed and surrounded by the dust and debris of my security blanket. There is just me. I am broken down. Who the hell am I?
I am vulnerable at this point. I am faced with my insecurities and self-doubt. Vulnerability has always scared me. It is the part about sex I dislike the most. I am my most vulnerable at night. That is when I self-reflect or, as I prefer, to reference the act as an internal battle. I have two sides of me at war and there is nothing civil about it. Both sides play very dirty and they both want to be right. I lay in bed hugging my pillows, allowing my tears to flow in hopes that the release of all those built up emotions make me feel better.
I have been here many times and I know that I will return. Each time my stay is a little shorter than the last. This is when the work happens. This is where the growth happens. When I find out that I am strong enough. I find out that I am enough. I realize that I must begin building again, but this time on a different foundation. Do not build again on the sand like the fool, but this time on the rock like the wise man. Use brick like the oldest piggy instead of sticks and straw. One day you will be invincible and your self-worth and self-love, unwavering.
I am participating in Write Your Ass Off April, a Twenties Unscripted writing Challenge. This is for the Prompt DEMOLISH.