I forgive myself

Recently, I’ve realized I’m not very kind to myself. I am the helicopter parent I never had.

I push myself hard to be the best I can be in all regards, but I’m an imperfect person. And I often fail to remember two fundamental truths:

  • To improve myself in any manner requires time and therefore patience.
  • The journey won’t always be linear.

So I’m bound to relapse into old mistakes on occasion throughout the process of curing my toxic habits or thought patterns—but each instance becomes another fracture in the faith I place in myself. And now that I’m taking in what I wrote from an objective perspective, I think I’ve been a bit unfair. I’m still trying to find my true values. To grow into this person I so desperately want to be, I need first to figure myself out. I need to make even more mistakes. I need to trust myself to take it at my own pace, because after all, the most genuine progress doesn’t flower from force.

One of the most promising things I believe right now is this: there is nothing bothering me that I can’t fix. I’ve transformed so many times, and so thoroughly, throughout the span of a short 18 years that I have reason to assume I can become whoever I want to be. Not in the sense that if I want to become a Supreme Court justice, I can (LOL—when so much of an aspiration comes down to luck and timing, that’s not exactly a reasonable speculation no matter how much work you put in), but in the sense that if I wish to develop a trait or remove one, I can. As long as I’m aware of wanting to revise my mindset, all it takes to make that happen is the right amount of effort.

Like any teenager, I cringe at all the embarrassing little memories that rupture vividly through the walls of an unoccupied mind at night. Every time I tried too hard to gain a potential new friend’s approval; the state of my unfortunate face those first few months after discovering the world of makeup; all the stupid (albeit insignificant) things that have ever escaped my mouth on account of ignorance. Uncomfortable as these moments are to reflect upon, the sheer effect they have on us serves as a reminder of how much we’ve grown. Meanwhile, nobody else really gives a shit, so we are left with no other reason to dwell on these things.

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