Hey lovelies! Long time no talk (as per usual). I normally use the excuse that I’m too busy to post, but that’s really not the case. I mean, the past few days have been super busy, but I feel like I have zero excuse for not posting in three months. And that’s what I’m here for today. I’m making a post on the real reason why I haven’t posted.
I’m struggling. I’m struggling with an idea I’ve been wrestling with my entire life: I’m obsessed with being “perfect.”
I believe this obsession stems from my really difficult childhood. From elementary school through sophomore year of high school, I was bullied. When I’d get home from a long day of crying and “turning the other cheek,” I’d have to deal with my father’s anger issues. As a child I was desperate to please anyone and everyone in order to make bad things stop happening to me. I’d look around me and see that the beautiful, smart, charismatic people commanded the room. I would think to myself, “If only I was like them, people would stop hurting me. Nothing bad happens to them.”
I worked my butt off in high school to earn a Presidential Scholarship to the University of Alabama. I recovered from my depression, my eating disorder, my severe panic attacks. By the end of my senior year, I thought the only direction I was going was up (and away). I was absolutely thrilled to be leaving all these toxic, hurtful people behind me and go down South to get a fresh start on life.
Well, turns out moving away from home is difficult (no shit, Sherlock). From legitimately crazy roommate situations (I had three) to failing classes in my major to my depression coming back bigger and better than ever, freshman year was a nightmare (I’ll go into detail in another post). While I was in bed wallowing in my sadness, I’d go on Instagram and see everyone else in the Greek community having a grand old time and making captions like “freshman year forever.” I struggled making my Instagram look like I was doing things with my sorority and going out with friends all the time and feeling happy-clappy sunshine and rainbows, despite that all of it was a lie. I felt so isolated and disconnected from the rest of my class. I thought I was the only one having a rough freshman year, and that I wasn’t allowed to not have an amazing time at college. After all, these are “the best years of [my] life.”
I was embarrassed to be having a bad time, which is absolutely ridiculous thinking about it now. I was embarrassed to admit to my parents, even to friends back home and people from high school that I wasn’t living the dream. I thought that I had to “win” against the people that bullied me in high school, in middle school, because someone once told me the best revenge is to have a better life.
Well, news flash. Trying to out-do your so-called “enemies” from back home is only going to make you miserable. It’s holding onto anger, onto the past. Buddha once said “holding onto anger is like holding onto hot coals and expecting the other person to get burned,” or something like that. I spent all this time freshman year worrying about if the people back home were seeing the pictures on my profile that I forgot to see the bigger picture: life is hard and that nobody has it better. Hurt people hurt people. We’re literally on a little rock hurtling around the sun with a bunch of other rocks in a universe that only God knows the ends of. Life is way, way, way too short to be trying to impress people that didn’t care about you in the first place, because if they did care about you, they would’ve been nice to you.
Honestly, I’m still feeling pangs of hurt as I write this. I am not “totally over” my childhood. But I am “totally over” pretending. Pretending that life is as simple as good people and bad people, and that all they’re ever gonna be is mean. Pretending that my life was miraculously changed as soon as I moved to Alabama. Pretending that I’m someone that I’m not. The best revenge was never to have a better life. I literally just realized this now, absolutely positively 100% from God, that the best revenge is to forgive.
I believe that 2019 will be a season of growth and rebirth for my soul. I’m not exactly sure how I’m going to grow and change and forgive, but a little voice is whispering in my head, “prayer, prayer, prayer.” I know all of this will not be easy by any means, but it will be worth it. 100%. And looking on the bright side, at least I’m not going to be hiding any of this anymore. My goal for 2019 is to blog my journey. My main purpose is to help myself put everything into words and keep track of ideas for my memoir (one day), but if it helps anyone along the way, that’s not so bad either 🙂