‘Faith means someone seeing something in you that you don’t, and not giving up until you see it too.’ - Luckiest Girl Alive....
ANOTHER RANT
‘Faith means someone seeing something in you that you don’t, and not giving up until you see it too.’ - Luckiest Girl Alive
I read these lines while I was fighting with a friend. My friend had just called me a mean person. After listening to that, these lines just hit me hard. Am I a mean person? Yes, I was being particularly mean at that moment, but does that make me a mean person? Am I defined by how people see me? There are a few people in my life who call me caring and helping and sweet, but I do not see myself as those things. I do not strive to look inside me to find the good that they see. However, when someone calls me mean and hypocritical and evil, I automatically relate to that emotion and agree with them. Why is it this way?
Why am I constantly trying to undermine myself? I am a human, and humans are grey - not black and white. There is no good or bad; we all have our own baggage and stories that make us who we are. Some turn out to be of a bit darker shade of grey than others. Does that make them bad? Why cannot I free myself from these chains? Why do I still cling to the labels that people put on me? I am done with people. I have no expectations from them, I keep telling myself that. Despite that, it hurts every time when I am told that I am essentially not a good person. I have my support system. I have friends who love me, no matter what.
Why do I constantly ignore that? Why do I keep reminding myself of the people who do not like me? Why do I need external validation? I am not perfect. Some days I strive to be a better person. On other days it is just hard. I do not feel like trying.
I know my insecurities and anxieties, and I embrace them with all the love that I can give to them. So when will they stop suffocating me? I am the villain of my own story. Bad things have happened and they will keep happening; I cannot stop that, but I can stop them from engulfing me alive. I, as the villain of my story, give them the power to devour me. When will the hero of my story come to the rescue? Or, perhaps, never. I am going to be my own hero. I need to save myself. I need to help myself breathe if I want to survive. If I do not want to die before I am dead, I need to be my own lifeline.
I need to learn that I am hypocritical, because I am good with some people and bad with others. I need to accept that I wasn’t created perfect, that I make mistakes and I will keep making mistakes. Having admitted that, I need to stop punishing myself for the mistakes that were made unintentionally. I need to forgive myself and others. And for the wrongs I have done, I need to try to seek forgiveness. If I am not forgiven, I need to learn to be okay with that.
