Tuesday, December 27, 2011

Constants

I'm learning to live for me. It's exhilarating. Terrifying. And about damn time.

I have been in this funk, this sinking into my own life and mind, for a few weeks. It happened suddenly; my best friend got a new man, my father moved countries and I moved up stations at my job and then depression sank in. I couldn't find happiness any where. I couldn't find peace or stability anywhere. I was lost in my own life and couldn't find a way out.

So I withdrew into myself, deeper and deeper. Thought through, felt through my maze of misunderstanding. I kept feeling misunderstood by others, by God, by myself, and it was time that I took a moment to clear it all out.

I was jealous of W; she finds love and relationships like preteen girls find a Claire's at a mall - easily. I was jealous of my Soul Brotha, as I feel he's got this drive, this inner passion in life that he just knows he's meant for, and I don't have that. I was envious of people with better jobs, people with fitter, firmer bodies. I was not happy with myself.

I broke down all those things: why am I jealous of this and that, when I have me? I have me, and I'm amazing. I'm smart. I'm funny. I'm honest and open. I'm willing to admit I'm wrong, not braggadocios when I'm right. I'm curvy and soft. I'm whimsical and cool. I'm me. Why was I trying to live my life like them? Because they were my constants, my things outside of myself that I judged my life on.

Talking with W, she tossed out casually that her man had asked her to move to Florida and my whole plan shifted; everything I thought I was going to do, we were going to do, was just shot to hell. She didn't say she was going, she said she was considering it, and to think or feel that she would give this new person as much consideration as she would me, tilted my axis and brought it all in to focus: I can't live on other people being my constants, I have to be my own. Why wasn't I my own constant to begin with?

I think I was afraid; that the implications of being my own constant meant I'd be alone and it's not that at all. Being my own constant means being secure in what I can do, but understanding my limitations and working with them. Being my own constant means being independent from other people's perceptions, rules and lives; it means I get to make and mold myself further into who I'm mean to be with no pressure. Being my own constant simply means accepting myself, trusting myself, and moving forward with the knowledge that I'm capable.

And it's about damn time.

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