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| The best cure for anything is a little lipstick and a smile. |
I wrote Part I about five months ago when I thought my life was turning upwards to bigger and better things. It seems I’m cursed though, because, in a lot of ways, I’m lower than I’ve ever been. Around February through April of 2013 some truly awful things happened to me. I thought I was approaching the anniversary of those horrific events happier than I’d ever been, but I fell hard. No matter how hard I fall though, I will always stand back up. I am weaker than I used to be, but I am so much stronger because of it.
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| This was taken right after I read Part I again. I cried and I smiled. Capturing my reaction months later was important. |
It started the same. This year and last. A rough end to a year, then early February things were really, really good. And in one moment, I lost it all. I’m still suffering, still hurting from the pains of years of emotional beatings and physical bullying. But I will be okay, I will always be okay.
While I still admire and look up to the women I wrote about before, now I really look up to myself. It’s cheesy, but I found something wonderful myself this year. Thanks to the hurt I’ve felt, I realized what was important to me. It had been important all along, but I pretended didn’t matter. I refused to be myself, because who I am is a hard person to be in this world. I’m grateful for this blog because it has shown me that it’s okay to love what I love. I’m grateful for having the chance to learn the value of loving someone with my entire being. I’m grateful for what happened to me last year because it showed me my strength and allowed me to experience the lessons that came next.
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| That’s a little girl who believed fairytales and woodland elves were real. |
I’ve always been a fairytale girl. Disney’s Cinderella, she’s my favorite. She suffered, she was a friendless loser who just wanted to experience the beauty in life. Growing up, I was Cinderella. I didn’t have friends, none that really stuck around more than a month or two anyway. Maybe it was my fault, but maybe I’m just different. I only wanted to experience all the happy that life had to offer. But Cinderella had a fairy godmother who saved her. I always wished I had a fairy godmother like Cinderella. And a Prince Charming, a white horse, a happy ending. Happy endings aren’t real.
No matter what happens in life, we will always face challenges. These challenges can make or break us, as people and as humankind. I like to think mine have made me. I’m not jaded by them. There is no hate in my heart. Sure, my heart is broken, but that’s okay. I’m not afraid to hurt if I’ve had the chance to live and love. The pain can’t hold a candle to the happiness felt.
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| November 2013. I was struggling, but I was happy. I was finding what made me, me. |
I’ve been chasing everyone else’s dreams for me for my whole life. I was supposed to be intelligent and beautiful and famous. Unapproachable. Intimidating. Invulnerable. I love Anthropology and I look forward to a career in forensics. But I’m not doing it for the reasons people want me to. I’m intelligent and capable, but I’m not motivated by money or glory. If I was, it wouldn’t be so hard to sit down and study. I’m capable of higher A’s than I get. School is easy, the intelligence, that’s easy. Even at my absolute worst, I do just fine. I’m incredibly lucky that I can succeed when I’m emotionally so low, I don’t deny that. But my success has nothing to do with my heart. My intelligence is a curse because it makes people believe that I can’t or shouldn’t feel. But at the end of the day, I’d rather be naked, broke, and homeless than lose my heart. I’m not fulfilled by my GPA.
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| The pain is real, but so are the lessons I learned and the happiness I felt. |
What’s fulfilling to me, what drives me, is giving my heart and soul to someone else. To someone who deserves it. With forensics, I can give my heart to someone who lost theirs and give them back to their family. I can tell the world who they are and why they mattered. That’s why I stay in school, why I haven’t dropped out and given up yet. I might not be able to save lives, but I’m saving the memory of one life. That’s what matters.
What matters is the woman reading the pamphlet about breast cancer, in tears, on my flight back from Texas. What matters are the little girls who have lost their lives fighting for education in Middle East. What matters is facing a world full of hatred and jaded souls with an open heart, ready to be broken over and over and over. I can’t change the world, but I can change my world. I can leave a mark on the people I meet. Being the best person, the best human being, the best lover and friend that I possibly can be. That fulfills me. No matter how much it hurts, no matter how many tears I cry. That’s the person I want to be, the person I try to be every day. That is the person I am.
