This is a somber, yet cathartic way to start the year.
My values haven't changed.
The grief of letting love go is all too familiar. As I navigate life and experience new ways in which others love, I have to appreciate it for what it was as not what it could be.
The hopeless romantic within me still holds this notion that love is selfless. It's putting your ego aside to nurture something beyond yourself. It's to be of service, without the expectation of reciprocity. It's letting someone know they're deserving, intrinsically, for who they are and not what they can provide. It's probably a projection of my own desires, how much I long to be understood.
I understand who I am, so it's of little consequence for me to make space for others to feel safe and discover themselves. It's a paradox though, because I'm still taken back when there's a fundamental gap between how I treat someone and how they treat me. I see it as a reflection of who I am, and if I deserve to be treated this way. I can't turn off that feeling that I continue to reap what I sew in this regard.
I'm sure it's not the last time I feel this way. I hate failing, but it's always a chance to try again.
Where do I go from here.
I've been in a transitional phase for a while, I don't really fear the unknown anymore. Frankly speaking, my perceived "stagnation" hasn't been as mentally taxing as I thought. Constantly being expected to "be more, do more, aspire for more" isn't how I want to live. I want just enough to be happy. I'm getting to that age where there's more and more death around me. I think about how long it takes for people to come into their own, if ever, and then realize how fortunate I am to not be burdened to uphold anyone's expectations except my own.
My dad was diagnosed with stage 4 colorectal cancer, my mom had a heart attack, my grandma died, my grandpa will go soon, my step-dad passed last week. It's a stark reminder to not take what time I have for granted. That the sacrifices made to get me to where I am are not wasted on ruminating about everything wrong in my life. In the end, I'd rather be remembered for who I was, not what I accomplished.
I'm grateful for who I am now, not who I can potentially be. I truly can look in the mirror everyday and feel beautiful about all my many facets. As depressed as I can get, I never pity myself. I take accountability for the unfortunate positions I end up in. That's the risk I chose to take when I decided to tear my walls down.
I've always had the fortitude to persist.
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