I Want To Live, Really Live.

I really really want to enjoy my life more.

For so long, I have lived with my fears weighing down my shoulders. They were dark spots that clouded my vision and kept me from seeing the world as it was. My life was so full of “should haves” and “why am I doing this to myself” that I was afraid to speak up and express myself. I was afraid to do the things I most wanted to do.

I allowed this fear to grow and grow until it was out of my control. It took me years to begin the process of letting this go. I had to learn that this was something I couldn’t do on my own and that it was OK to ask for help. There was nothing wrong with asking for help.

It was hard for me because I had always felt that I shouldn’t burden others with my own mental weakness.

It took me years to get this far. I’m still afraid and having trouble putting  faith in myself.  Even though some might portray confidence as a magic pill, it isn’t. It always seemed so far away, but now, I can tell you that the more I move towards it, the more I realize this.

I’m still fighting for it-I’m not completely there yet. but…Yesterday, I realized that I’ve always been me. There’s never been anything wrong with me in the first place. I have always been capable, analytical, and brave. Even though I had been told that many times, it wasn’t something I could fully understand until I arrived at that conclusion myself.

It was like watching storm clouds part before your eyes and sunlight stream down from the sky, illuminating the bright and shining parts of you that you always had, but never recognized. Nothing changed. Only my perception and the release of something tightly wound in my chest and part of the weight on my back.

Even if it was only for a small section of my sky, I want to see more of it. I want to see it all-that beautiful sky that is life.

I want to live more than I ever have. Yesterday, I looked down at my hands-small with stubby looking fingers- and for the first time, I thought they were beautiful. I-there was a tightness in my chest, as if my chest were too small. Tears slid down in my cheeks.  I was overcome with the realization that I love them. Despite the sharp and sometimes hurtful comments made about them through out the years, they are my hands and I love them.

I look nothing like the models on magazines or the actresses on TV. I’m not fit like they are. I’m not curvy or tall either. My hair is always a mess and my eyes have dark bags. The only thing worse than my skin is my eyesight. I love it. They are a part of who I am. This is me.

I stood there in the dark of the kitchen and wondered why we always disparage our bodies. Our society changes opinions constantly. It used to be a round body that society touted as the example. Then it was a thin, straight body. Now, it is a curvaceous body more than anything. Our idea of beauty changes from society to society. In some places, it is wide childlike eyes and in others, narrow sultry ones.

Our societies are so flawed. They’re wrong. So why must we treat their ideas as gospel when it’s the farthest thing from it? Why do we allow this to make us feel ashamed of life and how it expresses itself through us?

We are so full of life. Our bodies give and receive it. We can learn through practice lessons we most need to learn. We laugh and cry because our hearts are so touched by the things around us. We look up and our senses tell us about the world around us. We experience life so vividly and learn things so quickly. Our capacity for growth is always jumping up. Every time society puts down limitations, someone always break it. Even machines cannot replace us and our flexible ways of thinking and growing.

We are so much more than we think. Why do we let others dictate who we are and what we could be? I am so much more than I ever thought I was. I’m not ugly. Even if society deems it so, even if I deem it so, we are not omnipotent. My beauty lies not in their judgement, but as something independent of it all. I am alive. My beauty is in my vitality and spirit.

I want to reach the sky one day. I want to keep going and never stop. I want to grow into something like the light that we see when sunlight hits you through the trees or in the pictures NASA takes of the stars around our universe. Wouldn’t it be nice to shine as bright as that?

I think we could all do that if we tried. We are all made from the same matter, so surely it’s possible right?

Sorry, I’m probably explaining this all wrong, but there are no words that can capture this emotion properly. All I have are these comparisons. I want to live. Now more than ever.

I’m so glad that I’m alive that sometimes I want to cry. Life moves my heart and soul. Even though it can be painful with all its darkness and fear, there is also happiness too with light and love. For me, sorrow and joy stand side by side and the difference makes life all the more enjoyable.

If I hadn’t seen the darkness. If I hadn’t felt fear. If I hadn’t felt such self hatred…

Would I be able to recognize the light around me? Would I have been able to find peace or courage? Would I have been able to feel such relief and love that night in the dark kitchen, staring down at the hands I had secretly hated?

It’s like a weight has been lifted off of my shoulders.

I’ve been thinking so much ever since I started this project and each day feels like a journey. I wonder where they will lead? I’m really looking forward to it.

Even though I was so nervous and scared when I started this project, it has been such a good thing for me. I want to keep going. I was so worried I wouldn’t be motivated, but I’m more motivated than I’ve ever been.

Did you know? Yesterday, I started planning a story. Even though there were people looking over my shoulder, I sat back and decided that I would keep going. I started plotting despite their curious eyes.

I kept writing. I kept dreaming.

I enjoyed it.

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