Faithful Companion

My life's decisions have had many motivators, fear was always the most pressing, gnawing, and powerful. It always lingered in the back of my mind like a slow hum that would turn into a growl whenever I allowed myself to look away from it for too long. It would glare at me with its red eyes and ask: "Do you dare act against my will?" And I would comply with it... because I was a coward. 

 Saying I was a coward is a cop-out. I still am a coward. Fear remains my strongest driving force because hope is something I never afforded. I never knew what it's like to choose something without duress; without looking back and seeing how frightening the alternative is and sighing in relief that I escaped by the skin of my teeth. 

 I knew what courage looked like for a few moments in my life. I stood in the face of adversity and defended my choices and felt quite good about it, too. The funny thing is, every single one of those decisions, especially when I bet against the odds and had such conviction while doing so, ended up in disappointment. 

 These instances taught me that desire isn't in the cards for someone like me. That caution, however suffocating and isolating and sad, is the only way I can survive with the least damage possible to the people I care about. I learned to quiet the parts of me that yearned for more, for better, for deeper. I repeated my fear to myself as a daily mantra because I still am scared if I abandon it I'll get hurt. I learned to tell myself: "This is as good as it's going to get." Over and over. 

 The cynical part of me wants to interject here and point out how obviously misguided the delusional part of me is. Because if I'd learned anything in my 30 years of life, it's that every time I listen to desire, to hope, to more, I get struck down. 

 People have a tendency to be fickle and uncertain, even when they tell you you're the answer to their prayers...their prayers change and you miss the mark once again. It's not their fault they're human. It's not a moral shortcoming to change. But it's starting to feel like change evades me, because no matter how much I wish for fear to leave me alone, it remains my most faithful companion.

Hello Old Friend,

 This blog is 10 years old.

I started it in my senior year of high school, back when I was still young, confused, and brimming with potential. Torn between pursuing my passion of becoming a writer, or following the traditional path of getting a degree in the medical field.

Well, the degree happened. I never used it, but I did get it.

I wonder what 18 year-old me would have thought if she knew that 28 year-old me would still be writing here, but also working as a full-time writer.

I'm nothing special, though. There are like 50 more of me at my workplace and some of them are unbelievably good at what they do. But I'm okay with it. I'm okay with not being the best.

Yeah. After years of struggling with what I want to be versus what everyone else expected of me. Years of fighting with all my power just to stay afloat and keep my head above water. Years of hopes and fears and disappointments. Years of gathering all my strength to prevent myself from becoming another cog in this magnificent, grinding machine.

I just let it happen. I stopped grasping at straws and let myself be what I was always meant to be; just another person.

It's crazy but it also isn't. To think how the decisions that 18-year-old made are what brought me to this point of my life where I'm so at peace with being mediocre and seeing it as a positive thing. 

I stopped trying to stand out when swimming against the current for so long absolutely damaged me. Instead, ways to fit in became everything I hoped and dreamed to find. 

It wasn't that hard, either. In fact, it was one of the most liberating things to have ever happened to me, precisely because it happened to me, I had no incentive or hand in doing it.

How funny is it that I'm writing about this without bursting into tears, though? The worst thing I could have imagined happening to me ten years ago is exactly why I'm so at peace today.

Hope that's how I'll be looking at things in 10 years, though.

Left Behind

 Lately I've been contemplating the feeling of being at a stand still, considering the fact that before last year, all I ever did was move within channels that were cut out for me ever since I was born. I was always doing something, fulfilling an expectation or chasing achievement without really looking twice to check whether I want to be doing whatever it is I was doing or not. I finished school, graduated from university, worked an internship for a year, during which I wound up finding my life partner. We got engaged then married, faced (and are still facing) a global pandemic together, while trying to figure out what to do in these rapidly changing times that aren't really kind to us. 

It's funny that during all of this I'm moving so fast, ageing, growing, making plans and remaking them after life has plans of its own, yet the one feeling I've been consistently having is being stationary. I mean, sure, the fact that I'm currently -barely- working from home is a big part of it, but I made a conscious choice to leave my field of work for the time being because it poses an immense threat to the health and safety of my loved ones before it does me. And in all honesty, I wasn't really eager to work as a dentist even before the dangerously perilous Covid-19. But something about being home at all times is making me feel almost...not there? Like I only exist to the people I interact with daily, and this circle is tightening by the day. 

I was never really a social butterfly, and when the stakes are that high, I wouldn't risk being social over this odd feeling of slowly vanishing. But for someone who's always had a loud, anxious inner voice dictate what they can and can't do, sitting still away from the loudness of everyday life brings about a whole slew of other, equally unpleasant feelings. Hah, it's funny that unpleasant feelings is all I seem to talk about on here.

I still struggle with my mental health though it seems to be less vicious nowadays, for which I'm very thankful. I just hope I can think my way out of feeling redundant, stagnant, left behind.

Purpose (23rd birthday post)

Sometimes I wonder what the use for a sense of purpose is, whether our primitive brains have way too much time on their metaphorical and literal hands after our ancestors helped us escape the woes of a feral life and tribal wars, and now we're left wondering about things that are partially comprehensible and entirely optional to our survival.

I wonder because I'm perpetually dissatisfied with my life, nothing comes naturally to me like fidgeting for ways to have more of what I crave; purpose, love, and achievement. I'm always anxious about not being enough, about not striving enough to have more security that will ideally put my mind at ease. The people around me are true champions for putting up with that!

 This got me thinking and theorizing, the less a mind is preoccupied by the basic aspects of survival, the more it has time to wallow in questions of purpose and identity. The fewer distractions it entertains, the longer and harder its days pass. The more a mind questions its purpose, the less clear it becomes. It's not a groundbreaking revelation to many, but it's a relevant one to me at this point in time.

 Perhaps the only good-enough distraction to me is falling and being in love. It's the closest thing to magic spells for all the chemistry that goes into making it materialize. I remember the dark days I went through as a teenager deeply and hopelessly in love, but also how I pushed through milestone after milestone with ease when I had a full heart. I achieved so much, felt like I had a reason to wake up every morning and be someone, felt like my existence was justified because it was so entrenched in someone else's...this is something I can't say I have right now.

 Stepping into my 24th year of life, I can't help but wonder for how long I can run on an empty heart and an over-worked mind.

Finding my voice

It's quite painful to feel like you've lost your voice. Amidst daily struggles, suffocating routines, and the busyness of people who comprise your support system. It's almost like screaming in a crowded place where no-one can hear anything but their own voice, until they realize just how fruitless it is, and resort to mumbling to themselves instead.

I used to be able to "express" so easily. Thoughts I've had pop in my head at 3 am used to flow in words as if they were being recited to me. I took it for granted for so long until I realized that there is a time when I'll be desperate to articulate my thoughts and fail to do so miserably. Or even worse, to think to myself that what I have to say isn't worthwhile, that my experience as a human doesn't matter and I should just shut the hell up to avoid annoying people about my useless life while they go on with theirs.

I don't know how long it will take for my brain to unwind the damage this warped thought process brought upon me. I'm just sharing this to say I know it won't last, I won't let it.

The Ella Enchanted Syndrome

For my whole life, I've been the goody-two-shoes who follows laws, rules, and regulations with blind obedience. I was told it was best for everyone. I was told it keeps everyone safe, happy, and productive. I was told when things are in order, little could go wrong.

Throughout my almost twenty one years of life, I saw laws being broken, regulations ignored, and people doing whatever the hell they wanted to do, to little or no consequences on the greater good of the society. Sure, many of those instances lead to injustices that affected me directly and personally, but no one else cared and I knew it was best for everyone if I just kept my mouth shut. I realized I bend under pressure and cave in under the unjust rule of tyrannous figures who only cared about that elusive, mysterious "greater good."
And for the very few times I tried to play rebellious and pay no heed to their warnings, all hell broke loose.

This is not to say I got in much trouble, because the last "serious" trouble I ever got into was back in kindergarten when I publicly defied a teacher who didn't like that I talked too much. The situation worked out in my favor after my mother meddled, but ever since I've always thought twice and thrice and a million times before defying authority. Be that the security guard in front of a building who insists on making my life harder because he can, to the teachers, professors, religious leaders, team leaders and so on of the people who have a say on what goes and what doesn't in my life.

I just don't like using uncivil manners, which might seem contradictory to my feisty personality and quick temper. But screaming and using foul language always comes with more internal repercussions than external for me. I have terrible guilt that breaks me down every time I lash out at someone, whether they deserve it or not. Added to the perfectly convenient (hah!) unlikable aura that surrounds me wherever I go, it just makes life pretty hard for me to not be a complete and utter angel. I can't -of course- because I'm human, but my failure to conceal contempt or disgust or any negative feeling there is always makes me dissatisfied with my performance in the system I am currently living in; the system that both repels me and repulses me.

But I'm tired of that. I'm tired of feeling scared all the time lest I step on someone's toes accidentally while I go on living my life. I want, for a change, to not care whether my existence is causing someone trouble or inconvenience. I want to stop caring about everyone's needs and desires, likes and dislikes before my own. I want to stop regarding the laws and rules and unspoken conventions (which failed to protect my rights uncountable times) as sacred laws to be regarded above my personal comfort. I'm tired of being a coward and fearing the consequences of every action I take no matter how trivial and insignificant it is. And I'm tired of being scared to stand up for what I think is best for me, regardless of what people say and rules dictate.

I want to embrace this phase of rebelliousness now that I can, for one day I'll wake up unable to defend my rights that I let go of, when I possessed the voice and energy to stand up for them and receded. 

The Chosen and The Damned

I'd be lying if I said I never wondered on what basis God judges a person as good or bad. I've had these thoughts since I was a kid when I was told that being certain things was good, while doing things or associating with certain people was bad. I tried to maintain those guidelines while growing up, looking at things purely from black and white vision goggles. It was easy, relatively. I just had to hold to some criteria that I thought were objective and fair, but that was as far as my child brain could take me.

But growing up, to me, was discovering that life has a wide array of grey-scale shades. And these shades often get tinted by a certain color representing where you stand on the spectrum. I learned that my idea of right and wrong is different from my sister's, and we grew up in the same house raised by the same parents! I'd be lying to say that it was easy, because I remember at a point in my life I was being constantly shocked by what other people viewed as true, right, good and fair. Let's just say it was a bumpy road...

Part of the teachings children receive, especially in religious backgrounds, is knowing which people belong where when it comes to the afterlife. We're taught that certain people who do a,b and c belong to heaven, while some others who don't, and maybe have 1,2 and 3 as their set values, they belong to hell. The first pile, The Chosen, often include people like ourselves and our parents. They're the familiar, the similar, the congruent to our codes of morality. While the "other," they're The Damned. Those classifications are often termed "moral tribes."

Setting apart moral tribes starts to take place by associating with only the people who fit our definitions of good. But like any other tribal behaviors, it ends by eliminating and alienating those who don't. A bit further down the road, the tribe starts having a more specific list of "admission prerequisites,"  which means that its circle shrinks and starts to exclude more people. And to ensure the survival and propagation of its values and morals, it starts to fight other tribes.

This means that fighting only happens when a tribe feels threatened by the presence of another option, or by the lack of enough followers. It happens when the "other" is viewed as the enemy who could possibly destroy our own tribal values, or at least when vanquishing the "other" is seen as a sign of strength that could attract a bigger number to join the victor tribe.

It's obviously primal thinking, using primal strategies. To fail at belonging to a community, having certain values and beliefs, while simultaneously being able to view the "other" as a human being with as much value on their life, as many rights as you possess, and as big of a possibility to be a good human being. This is all childish clinging to the black and white vision goggles.

But you know, sometimes those goggles don't work.

10 Things I Learned As A Short-haired Girl

I have really curly hair (3b on the curl chart), but for my entire adolescent life, I did everything I could to mask it. I never went outside unless my hair was perfectly straightened or waved, and my poor hair was so co-operative that nobody would believe it when I told them my hair is actually very very curly. I recently got it cut, it's now 12-16 inches shorter in different places, and the plan is to almost never heat treat it; i.e. to go natural.

 Here is some of my newly acquired wisdom regarding hair length (and texture!) on girls...and why it's nobody's business but theirs. 

               

1. My hair before the cut was really really long. Longer than I thought it was due to damage and split ends.

2. All guys love long hair on girls.

3. Most girls wish they could chop all their hair off. They don't because of the former reason.

4. People stare at curly hair as if it were an anomaly, which truly is paradoxical since I live in an African, Middle Eastern country. Tells you a lot about beauty standards.

5. I really really like it. More than I thought I would.

6. Change is really easy for me to adapt to; I feel like I've had my hair this short since forever.

7. People who are really close to you won't filter out their opinions of your appearance. Which means getting a lot of "you're insane" and "you look 40."

8. I spend much less time worrying about how I look, whether I have stray locks or frizz. I know I do, I just don't really care about it anymore.

9. "Going natural" made me realize I can feel beautiful with no maintainance whatseoever. But it also made me appreciate how much effort women put into their looks. It's no easy task for a girl, you know.

10. Personal choices are easy to make if you don't think much about what people would say. If I had thought of every time people would look at my short hair with pity, I probably would have had second thoughts about it.

People still drop sour comments about it and some of them kind of sting, but at the end of the day, I look myself in the mirror feeling beautiful and feeling like myself. I wouldn't trade that for all the "good hair days" in the world if they don't give me that. smile emoticon

Thoughts in the early (morning)

I'm lying on a couch at 5:43 am. I've only been awake since 8 pm last night, which felt like the early morning of my warped day.

I'm unhappy. The most unhappy I remember myself being in a long time. While I know the definite reasons for this unhappiness, I know how they came about and how my recklessness was a major part of that, I keep reminding myself that life's lows are life's lessons.

I can't write very well when I'm happy. I can write fairly well when I'm stable and indifferent, but not when I'm too excited or elated. I write quite well when I'm unhappy or lonely or even depressed and frustrated, and though it's been a while since I posted anything on here, I have been very active on other, more private platforms.Those keep safe the sides of my life that I wish to remain hidden, and also provide the venting I get from writing here.

Having a good memory and a knack for keeping "mementos" from each part of my journey through life had been two of the major things that feed my nostalgia. I would love to travel to the past if possible, but for now small trips down memory lanes suffice. But as of late, they also started to feed a sense of regret for all the times I know I should have acted differently, that could have most likely spared me my current "low." I know I just said right above that lows are lessons, but some lessons are best learned by observation, not trial. I know mending one's broken heart is hard to learn by just observing, but in the midst of all the pain, a few regrets make the red carpet appearance.

Being objective and telling myself I acted in a wrong way when I really should has not always been a merit of mine. I tend to either shake my mistakes off after correcting the done damage, or lie in this endless hole of shame and misery and absolute mortification, blaming my mistakes on my nature rather than my conscious (or unconscious) actions. I don't do self-accountability exactly right, which is a shame because I really need to learn how to.

I don't have a very healthy self-image. I work on that when I'm in a good place mentally and emotionally, but every once in a while a blow to my self-esteem causes me to try to rebuild what was shattered and broken down from the foundation rather than build on it. It gets disheartening at times, but I know it's worth the effort every time I look in the mirror and feel grateful for what I see.

I'm still rather emotionally inclined while making decisions. I appreciate it because it helped me maintain most of my current healthy relationships. It led me to some paths I wish to never tread again, but I'll count it as a blessing in today's solid, rational, materialistic world.

It's quite different for me writing this post, because contrary to my others on this blog, it doesn't revolve around an idea. It's just a bunch of stuff I wanted written down to remind me of my thought process during this time of my life. I'll try to be more frequent in writing on here, because frankly I need it more than anything right now. Although my other platforms which have been either private or anonymous offered some relief at time of need, I think it's about time I got back to being myself.

If you reached the end of this kind of irrelevant post, I truly thank you. Till next time!

Accessible

The feeling of loneliness, we've all experienced it at some point, and I can say dreaded it for the most part. It's the feeling that creeps up on you after you've been around so many people, laughing and being merry, but after a while the company starts to fade out of sight and you're just left with it. It's that feeling of helplessness associated with need; the need for attention and acceptance, and maybe some consolation in the form of a warm hug or a pat on the back. We all crave it and we all can't do without it.

So how to fulfill the need without sounding demanding or "needy"? You become accessible.
We as humans have this hypothesis engraved in our minds that when we offer something, we're more likely to have it reciprocated. It's true for the majority to see life as a series of trading transactions, we do something for something else in return. Be that thing a material payment, an appreciative gesture, or for the more self-righteous of us, the mere sense of satisfaction for having done good. It explains why we go through a lot of crap without a short-term profit; I mean, how many times were you convinced as a child to do something because it'll get you into heaven?
But that's not our point. The point here is we offer so much because we expect so much in return. So, for example, one offers 3-4 hours daily for socializing/checking up on friends because they somehow hope to find a friend checking up on them when they feel lonely...simple as that.

Of course with social media this has become a million times easier and more convenient. You now can interact with ten times the number of people you could interact with say 20 years ago, and reach an audience of numbers you could have only wished to reach as a dreamy, wide-eyed little kid. It's become so simple to show little bits and pieces of your personality to your acquaintances and friends so as to make yourself look as charming and inviting as possible. It all works out perfectly to ward off that lousy loneliness, right?

Wrong. Sometimes the idea of acceptance sounds amazing when uttered as a general notion, like how we all should embrace each other's differences and celebrate each other's presence. However, it can cause one to think of themselves in terms of their ambiguous traits, the silhouette of their personality rather than its core, or even worse for more self-conscious people, to feel like they're deceiving their grand audience into thinking they're something better and more appealing than their true selves, which is a very guilt-inducing, self-destructive thought. It could lead these people to making all kinds of stupid decisions to disrupt the image taken of them and disprove any theories of their wholeness.

Real loneliness needs real connection to chase it away. It needs open lines of communication and a willingness to share the innermost fears and desires with someone who understands and appreciates. It needs care that extends beyond lines of texts or minutes of phone calls with contrived emotions and cold, yellow images of pseudo-facial expressions. It needs intimacy, emotional and physical.

Friends or allies?

So I've seen this pic on my news feed several times now and I have a little rebuttal for the argument presented and the very "matter-of-factly" way it's presented in.

Friendship is a voluntary relationship. No one forces anyone to have friends or hang out with completely unrelated people to him just to make this person's day worse...just for the hell of it. We choose our friends, and suppose we do it in a healthy manner, we choose them based on common interests and fields of enjoyment. We choose them to make our days pass by a little better and to share with them our crazy antics and passions. We have so much to talk to them about, and what we talk about is completely unnecessarily related to our separate social lives. We talk sports, music, literature, long walks, health, philosophy...etc. with the occasional banter about current events and/or work and life troubles.

Friendship is optional. You don't have to call a person a friend if you two don't have anything in common. You can resort to acquaintance/colleague to rightfully label a person you don't choose to accompany willingfully. It's totally okay to have this as a circle in your life as a mature adult. You no longer play with the kids in the play ground and call them all your besties the next moment. There are boundaries and correct labels to be used.

However, and this is my main conflict with the picture, you can't really complain about a friend wanting to contact you daily, nor is it possible that you call someone a "friend" and be bothered by their wanting to chat up for a few minutes every other day. Of course we all have the "leave me alone" days in which we feel rather inclined to being solitary, but wanting to be alone and away from people you call your friends is quite an unhealthy sign if you ask me.

Second point in the picture is "if you need me I'll be there," well, it goes in line with the old saying we always hear: "A friend in need is a friend indeed." I want to say that's just not what friendship is for.
Friendship is a mutually enriching experience, it's not "I'm here for you today so you should be there for me tomorrow." It's not a who-repays-whom game. It's not a collection of tough moments in which you had a friend help you or you helped a friend. In fact, people who view friendships this way might suffer such lousy time with their "friends" when nothing crucial (whether good or bad) is happening. A sad sight indeed.
I'll leave the always articulate C. S. Lewis explain this better from his book "The Four Loves." 

" Others again would say that Friendship is extremely useful, perhaps necessary for survival, to the individual. They could produce plenty of authority: "bare is back without brother behind it" and "there is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother". But when we speak thus we are using friend to mean "ally". In ordinary usage friend means, or should mean, more than that. A Friend will, to be sure, prove himself to be also an ally when alliance becomes necessary; will lend or give when we are in need, nurse us in sickness, stand up for us among our enemies, do what he can for our widows and orphans. But such good offices are not the stuff of Friendship. The occasions for them are almost interruptions. They are in one way relevant to it, in another not. Relevant, because you would be a false friend if you would not do them when the need arose; irrelevant, because the role of benefactor always remains accidental, even a little alien, to that of Friend. It is almost embarrassing. For Friendship is utterly free from Affection's need to be needed. We are sorry that any gift or loan or night-watching should have been necessary - and now, for heaven's sake, let us forget all about it and go back to the things we really want to do or talk of together. Even gratitude is no enrichment to this love. The stereotyped "Don't mention it" here expresses what we really feel. The mark of perfect Friendship is not that help will be given when the pinch comes (of course it will) but that, having been given, it makes no difference at all. It was a distraction, an anomaly. It was a horrible waste of the time, always too short, that we had together. Perhaps we had only a couple of hours in which to talk and, God bless us, twenty minutes of it has had to be devoted to affairs."

- C. S. Lewis, The Four Loves

L

The Lie of Growing up

Yep. It's a lie.
People grow tired, grow apart, grow indifferent, but never grow "up".
It was a term coined for growing old, but getting old does not necessitate "up"-grading your status as a human being. In fact, most people get older without changing much of their personality, most likely acquired throughout their childhood and teenage years. They "grow" one of the aforementioned things, but never "up."

I know I sound stupid/too philosophical, but try and hear me out for a second. How many of us are living a life now that is basically an incarnation of our parents' hopes for us when they were kids?
Alright, these are the unlucky bunch.
Now, how many of us are living "their dream"? Lucky people, eh?
Well, looks like both are trapped now in the expectations that held them as little kids, whether their parents' or theirs. Which is unfortunate, I mean, it only proves that none of us has really grown up, and that who we are now is a larger, less excited, less intuitive version of ourselves as kids. One that's more prone to illness and mental instability. One that has loved and lost, experienced innumerable disappointments, inflicted pain and was afflicted by it; a shattered version of our true selves.

If that's what growing up means, it should have been called "growing anything-else-but-up".

All The Same

         "So if we're casting stones
          If we've forgotten what we know
          That we don't walk alone in this life
          Let your love get inside our bones
          May it deep within us grow
          May we bring in the ones left outside"

 These lines are from a song that's become dear to my heart lately, it's called All The Same by tenth avenue north (you can listen to it below the lyrics).
 What does this have to do with this post?
 I've been visited by this thought so much lately, that we spend so much time condemning others who have different beliefs or act according to a different code of manners that we forget to hold ourselves accountable for anything we do. We always seem to search for where the other person's wrong and magnify their faults so big that we think our own faults don't show. We refuse to give grace. We choose to judge according to differences and never try to "walk a mile in their shoes."

We're all humans, all the same. Every single one of us is struggling with something, no matter how big or small. We think that being secretive about our flaws and past mistakes, while casting stones on others' flaws and mistakes, will somehow work.

But you know, this is contradictory to basic logic.
Am I supposed to expect others to forgive me if I don't forgive them? Am I better? More favored in God's eyes for a special thing in me? Was I born with extra credit for having a special set of genes that give me superiority over another person?
Am I better than that person who chose to insult me and talk about my religion in a demeaning way just because it's different from his?

No.
Actually, I might be worse!

The moment a person starts believing he would "never ever ever!" do something, the same person walks into a danger zone of alleged infallibility. I'm not beyond judging a person because he's different from me. In fact, I've done it over and over before. On my own I'm fragile and prone to fall into so many pits and holes; it's God's grace and mercy that keeps me from being a thing I might hate.

So, I'm not offended by what that person said*. I believe he thought there was a very good reason behind that comment he made about my religion.
I forgive, because I want to be forgiven.


*Translation of that comment he made into English:
Do you really believe that strange religion of yours (Christianity)?! It is wrong and unconvincing! I wonder how some minds believe these myths and absurdity you call your religion!
I advise you against being a follower for what you found yourself born into. Use your brain to reach what's right.

December 28th, 2013

So long 2013, you've been a good  year!

Not saying this in terms of the number of events which left me triumphant or downright happy. You've been a good year for learning, growing up and seeing things more realistically.

Since the very beginning I've known you'd be special. I had this intuition that I won't be the same person or have the same experiences after you've passed. I mean, graduating high school is no small matter. But let's face it, you had much more in store for me than that!

You broke me…several times and through small intervals of time. Did it hurt? Heck yeah. Do I regret anything that lead to this breakage? Not even a bit.

And even though I don't like feeling "schooled", I love learning new life lessons. And you, 2013, offered more than I could ever ask for.  You taught me that, in various ways, I'm still a kid and should seek the guidance and advice of the more experienced. You taught me that I ought not to believe every word of praise I receive, and listen carefully for criticism coming from trusted sources. You showed me that even if I drift apart from people there's always a chance for reconciliation, and that the closest of friends could turn to perfect strangers and vice versa in no time.

You taught me that I shouldn't expect much from people; they were not created to please me and make my every wish come true. You taught me to be patient and not to rush change or improvement, like a fine wine needs aging, everything takes time to get better. You also taught me not to wait for what I want to magically find its way to me, but to go out there and actively pursue it hoping for the best. You showed me in so many ways that there's always something new to learn, and that I should never rely on my knowledge as "enough".

Last but not least, you proved to me that God is always gracious, loving, just, able and good to me. That I should trust Him with my life, my heart, my mind, and more importantly my soul. He still wants me to be close to Him even if I try to pull myself away. And for this, I'm more thankful than for anything else.

Nineteen

It feels so weird, too old for the age I long felt stuck in...I always picture myself 16.
I'm not even sure if it's too soon or should have been sooner.
I mean, I take a look at my life now and wonder "When the heck did I grow so old?" Then I look back on every single event, detail, blessing and disaster that took my life and completely altered it over the course of the past 19 years, and I realize that it's 30 years worth of life events I've lived so far!
I don't know whether I should be happy or upset about it.
I do know I'm happy with the over-whelming love I received from almost everyone I know. I feel so blessed by how so many people who are not even this close to me are being nice enough to say such sweet things! But I also know that my birthday is not everyday, and growing up will eventually show its crappy side sooner rather than later. Sigh...
I'm confused about so many things right now, trying to set priorities for my life has never looked to difficult!
I'll just keep praying and talking to God about the mess I call my life for now. It felt much better not having to carry around the weight of my life and trusting Him, before I started taking matters into my own hands.
#GloomiestBirthdayBlogPostEver :/

Compromise

Getting adjusted to adult life is tough, especially now that I'm done with high school and in the process of choosing my academic future, regarding university and such. I'm currently torn between two different paths. Either commit to scientific study and study pharmacy or dentistry, or follow my true passion and study journalism and writing, or even major in English language and literature.
Now, where I live, making a living is a form of torture. But as a girl, I'm spared some of the sentence because I am to rely on my "future husband" to provide for me. I know this goes against everything I believe in, from gender equality to independence to just plain common sense, but let's face it, I'm not sure whether or not I'll still be living where I am when I get older, so I need to work for the future, and not just my "marital" future!
Where the heck does the title of the post fit in?
I'll tell ya! I am trying to figure out what path I should take to the point where it comes to compromise.
Elaboration? Sure.
Choosing the medical/ scientific field means getting a job, respect from society, working countless hours in an exhausting field, money ($$$!) AND my mama and daddy to be proud of me.
While "following my heart" and choosing to major in English or journalism means: having to live on a dorm, struggling with finances as I won't get a job that easily, being equaled with people who did not choose to major in those, but rather got stuck with not having a high enough credit (or an overall score)....and I'd still make my parents proud.
As the mature adult I am -disregarding the fact that I'm only 18- I'm stomped. I have absolutely no idea what is a better future for me. I get the fact that I do not necessarily have to work with the BSc/BA I'll receive, but I don't want to do "crappily" in college either! I wan't to enjoy the learning process as much as I want to enjoy my 9 to 5 job.
I still have to work on my ability to compromise, whether I am compromising safety by studying away from home and having to live on my own, or comfort by choosing a job that will absolutely break my back, or my dream of working with words and ideas rather than chemicals and teeth (yuck!).
I'm not sure what I should choose now, I ask for advice just to find myself getting more baffled and lost. But I'm quite positive that God has a great plan for me, even if that plan means I'll have no future career at all. I trust Him, and I know I'll be just fine.  (:

Never Too Young

Maturity has an age. Knowing God has an age. Spontaneity has an age. Oblivion has an age. Screwing up has an age. Wisdom has an age. Believing has an age.

So everything is age restricted. We have set up a system where by a definite age you should have certain characters or behave in a certain manner, or even look a certain way.
Never color outside those lines, or else you'd be socially unacceptable.
Just stick with what everybody else your age is doing and you'll be fine.
That's not age appropriate, you shouldn't (fill in the blank: speak, dress, act, feel) that way!
Stop acting like a little kid!
Why are you talking like you're 50?! Just act your age!

I get the fact that we grow up. I also get the fact that it's a pace-controlled process, not everyone "gets it" at the same age. But why is it that we don't perceive those differences in pace closely, that we might actually find flaws in our system? I'll break it down to you...we do.
It's quite impossible that I'd be the only one ever having difficulty in seeing why I am different.
If there's one thing I know, it's that everyone needs to break out from their age range once in a while.
There's gotta be a time when you feel like acting like a kid again. Or if you're a kid, you feel like handling one of life's serious questions. Only to find yourself getting laughed at in both cases.
I can't even count how many times I've seen someone my age speaking with maturity about a spiritual or social matter without hearing comments on how young they are. Sometimes these comments are meant to ridicule their opinions, sometimes they just marvel at their "untimely" wisdom.
I understand that life gives you experience. But living life yourself is not the only way to get it.
Reading, reflecting, listening, feeling and simply paying attention to life can grant you "wisdom beyond your years."
Some people live for years and still be immature, naive, inexperienced and oblivious. While others can attain maturity, spirituality and wisdom at a very young age. Both groups live life, but some make the most of it, while others let it pass by.
So, waiting to be a certain age to seek the truth, God and knowledge of your inner self is fine. Just you know that you could die now without seeing a side in life that you missed on purpose.
I'm definitely not saying you should try and act older than you are. I'm saying that with seeing the beauty of the present moment and age you're living, try and take a glimpse of life, experience  the thrill of unraveling truth.
Don't wait till you're an old person to reflect upon life. Do it now.

Idolatry

Judging by the title you've probably figured out what I'll write about. Fair enough, it's not a new subject to tackle, nor is it an easy one. I'll be very specific and quite personal when talking about this, so bear with me for a little...
The type of idols and idolatry this time is people. I've always thought of role models as infallible, though I try to look like I know their weaknesses and problems, and that they're in no means perfect. I find myself always ignoring these faults and failings once I get totally hooked up on them. It's then I realize that I've created something too big to break down into a normal human being. It only takes another role model I turn into an idol to make me see the faults and normality of the previous one. Like I said in the last post, it's a cycle, a very repetitive one. I guess it'll end for sure, nothing lasts forever after all.
I may seem mature for my age, but I know there are certain things that expose my lack of consistency. I pray about it. I even noticed improvement in some areas. But sometimes it only takes someone to tick me off to get me to throw a tantrum, or some poor friend of mine to bash on something I happen to "like" to get me to never stop proving them wrong, or convincing them that they need a change of views. This particular area, which is idolizing people, proves there's a LOT to work on in order to be mature.
I still struggle with the idea that I can change whatever I want about myself, whenever I want it, once I set my mind to. As if there's a button to press so I would stop being lazy, or stop thinking too highly or too lowly of myself, or even a button to change my opinion about someone or something I know is no good. This shows my lack of a realistic perspective of the world, of myself, of God. Things like that need perseverance, something I'm very poor in.
I just don't know what to do with myself. I still pray to find the right way to get rid of idolizing people, to grow up, and to learn from all the times mere humans failed me.
Pray for me, please.

Turning Away

It's been a long while since I last posted on here, the truth is that my mind was completely in a block. I wanted to post, but had no idea what to write. But I was just thinking about this thing 2 days ago, and I felt the need to share it...
The thing is that I noticed this pattern I go through when I'm "in love." Not necessarily with someone, but even when I'm in love with something. When it comes to things, I like to call them a temporary obsession of mine, because I know this "love" will fade away quite fast. The real problem is when it comes to a person, a real person.
You can't develop an interest in a person, let them consume your thoughts and energy, hang by a word they say, feel a deep affection for what they are and what they represent to you, just to find yourself suddenly repulsed by them. It happened to me, it still happens to me. It's like at a moment your whole life revolves around someone, but after a few months, you feel like you never even wanted to know them!
I realize that people are not paper towels. I can't just use one and dispose of them after I'm done. I also realize that there's something seriously wrong with me. Of course, those people are not saints who never do me wrong or hurt me or push me away, but neither am I. I can't just develop deep emotions this fast to just throw them to the wind the minute I'm not comfortable anymore.
I also realized that I can't blame people for what I do to them. For example: I stop calling a certain friend for 5 weeks, but then I feel this sudden storm of rage pounding on my mind saying this isn't a real friend for not calling me that long. I tried to medicate this by revealing what I was thinking to said friend. the answer I got was nothing but sensible, he said: "I was thinking the same thing, I was just waiting for you to go on and call first." Shoot! That was awkward, and even if he were lying, and he didn't really care (which isn't true, I checked later) it was still, equally, my fault.

I came to know a part of my being is still a little kid. And I do not mean this in a good way!
Remember when you kept nagging your parents for that toy at the store or in the commercials that you wanted so bad. You said your happiness depended on it. They listened and got you the toy...
But then what?! Another commercial aired, you felt like your happiness depended on The New Toy (I capitalized on purpose). So?!
See, this is a never ending loop, it just goes on and on and on. I think I need serious help with commitment, patience, tolerance, trust and other issues that I'm really struggling with right now.
I'm praying for now. I just got tired of being like this. Unless you suffer from the same problem, you'll never know what it feels like to pour your heart so into something/ someone, then just get bored, of everything and everyone. I go on and find new people and new things, to just repeat the cycle again.
I figured for some time that not caring too much will be the answer, turns out I wasn't caring enough. I hurt people I loved and cared about, and still care about. I got hurt a lot from what I'm doing. It wasn't quite the right answer...
I just wish I could know what causes me to turn away, is it people/ things changing? is it knowing too much about them? Is it the fact that I realize I gave them undeserved attention? Is it a means of twisted self discipline?
I'm not even sure I made sense in this post, I just needed to get this off my chest...
If you believe in prayers, pray for me, please!

Just like the movies

I had just finished reading a book of a story I had known so many years ago. That time, it was the way the writer intended it to sound like when the little voice in my head read it. I was so much moved by the way he described events, people and emotions. Those emotions! If only life in some way could imitate art, well, if only it were even possible for something like this to happen!

 I considered myself a very emotional person, yet in someway I got very good at hiding it. I got used to convincing myself that it's just a waste of time feeling something, or at least thinking about feeling something. That opening the door, or just leaving a little gap where light could enter, will wreck me eventually.

I grew tough. Tougher by the day. I even scare people away; looking so collected and so whole on your own is always a deal breaker.

I am deprived of emotions. I search inside of me for them but I fail to find enough of them for the people I handle everyday. If there are some left, they would be merely the remnant of what I once held inside of me.

Yet in my heart, still yearns the old me to the slightest glimpse of hope that someday I will be loved. This "embarrassing" side shows every time I witness an outpour of feelings. I'm not made of stone, apparently. And just as I try to make this side more obvious, I get laughed at for crying over a movie, or tearing up to a song, or just reacting to a gesture I thought was sincere towards me.

It is then when I pray the most that life would truly imitate art.

How have we become so poor on the inside? It's almost scandalous that it's impossible a man tells his lady that he loves her, without risking a million gazing eyes towards him. Even friends no longer make their loyalty a priority, for interest's sake! I lament where we've become. So bad that I pity myself instead of blaming it for where I have gone.

But then I'm bewildered, how on earth is life not like "the movies" when people who create movies are, well, alive?! From where would poets, authors or artists in general soak the vividness of their emotions? Don't they live on the same planet we live on? Why isn't it that we wonder from where we got all the stiffness, instead of pondering at their "mushiness"?

I admit that not all people are created equal, especially when it comes to feelings. But we could just try! We could just pray for more enlightenment when it comes to searching our souls within. I can't say that this is the answer. Truth is that I am still looking into it myself. I may never reach the shore when it comes to just this...