i have a confession.
but first i have an story.
sometimes i wish i was so lucky* to meet the love of my life in college. or around college. or just somewhere in my younger 20s. maybe in high school? in my mind, when you have that amount of years under your belt (i’m 30 now), you know a person. sometimes you don’t… but for the purpose of this stream of thought… YOU TOTALLY DO. so, sometimes i wish i had that. because maybe you know a lot about a person and they won’t do some unpredictable shit. and maybe you’re saved from the hamster wheel of dating, because even though it can be fun… (whew!) it is exhausting. maybe stuff is just plain old guaranteed and easy.
but i know that’s not true. that’s just a list of reasons why the grass is greener that i created in my mind… but i have a confession:
that’s not what i needed. because i had a tendency to get enmeshed.
in relationships, the lines between me and us would get blurred. i didn’t know who i was. and i was uncomfortable just sitting by myself. alone. and i needed my whole early 20s to be lost… and all of my late 20s (and the first year of my 30s) to realize this.
being distracted from yourself is awesome when you don’t really like yourself. when you don’t really want to focus on your low points, so you want someone to give you highs. or when you know don’t know jack shit… and you don’t want to take the time to figure it out.
you’re on autopilot.
kinda like how you hide pieces of yourself because you’re afraid people won’t like the real you. hiding from yourself is REAL. and hiding from yourself is easy. but it’s not rewarding.
i say all of this because i had to sit with my boredom (and myself) this past weekend. i’d been sick; getting over the flu, so i’d been in the house for about 5+ days. i wanted to get out… but there wasn’t anything going on that i could get into. so i had to sit. with myself. and it was slightly uncomfortable.
i’m used to piling on activities and being so many different places at once to distract myself from feelings, but when there is no outside influence… there’s just me. and sometimes it’s not all that exciting. and sometimes it’s painful. and that’s fine. i know enough to know how i can get, so i can safely say that i know myself pretty well now. and i’m ok.
so, what is it that you are doing to keep yourself from getting to know who you really are?
*depends on what your definition of luck is. but for this purpose, i will use the word luck.
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