Maybe happiness is this: not feeling like you should be elsewhere, doing something else, being someone else.
Until you get comfortable with being alone, you’ll never know if you’re choosing someone out of love or loneliness.
A friend told me today that he finds the statement “I’m over it” to be much too harsh. Whether the “it” is classes, grades, friend conflicts, family issues, breakups or mistakes, it’s just so easy to invalidate something so quickly in order to save face, save dignity, save tears, save heartache.
I found myself outwardly nodding along to his statement, while inside, I was struggling with the realization that I had been brushing it all off, shrugging and saying, “I’m over it.” I tried to tell myself I wasn’t hurt, and after a certain number of times, I actually began to believe myself. For a while, I was perfectly convinced that I had moved on with my life, that I was loving myself more, and that I wasn’t dwelling on the past.
But you know, I’m a dweller. I’m a thinker. I over think, my head aches, my heart breaks, and its a truly vicious cycle of thoughtfulness. Sometimes, I denounce this odd, very “meta” characteristic of mine, but these are truly the moments when I can learn the most about myself from myself.
I learned that I don’t love myself as much as I should, because heck, I’m so valuable, lovable, and beautiful in the eyes of God. Yeah, I still lack a lot of self-confidence, and I depreciate myself on the daily, but I have so many people that stop me and affirm me when my days are long and hard. I make foolish choices, but after each moment of foolishness, I am kept accountable, and am reminded of my community of care and love.
I’m not over it, but you what? That’s okay. And I’m okay.