I’m not okay.
For those of you following my blog, you’ve probably noticed it by now. I don’t pretend to be okay on here. In a way, this blog is my escape from the world of prying eyes and judgeful hearts. But I don’t think I’ve ever outright said what I really feel. I never talk about the very root of why I’m not okay.
I’m not okay because I’m scared.
I’m scared of settling for a life I don’t want. I’m scared that I’ll succumb to what other people tell me is right and wrong. I’m scared I’ll succumb to labels and stereotypes and expectations. I’m scared I’ll forget what I want and who I am and go after a dream that was never mine.
I like to think that I don’t care about labels. That it’s alright if I can’t define who I am and what I am and what I like. But is that really the case? I still find myself trying to classify myself. Broken. Useless. A loser. A reject. Depressed. Confused. I say I don’t care about labels, but at the same time, it’s labels that choke me.
It’s the labels that I put on myself that makes me feel like there’s no way out.
And I feel like a failure.
Like nothing I do matters. It doesn’t matter what marks I get, how many people follow me and read my stories and listen to my music. It doesn’t matter, cause it’s never enough. It pales in comparison to the people around me. It’s not enough to convince myself that I should pursue it and that it is enough.
It doesn’t matter that I’ve gotten nearly 20k reads on a book or 1.5K followers or accepted to publish on two invite only platforms. It doesn’t matter if a hundred people enjoy the things I create.
As usual, they pale in comparison to what I think are failures. About how it’s always difficult for me to grow, even though those who started out later than me skyrocketed. My hard work doesn’t matter if the people I care about don’t acknowledge my success. I can hardly call it success.
I don’t work hard enough for it. I don’t deserve any of it.
And, at the end of the day, when you strip away the flashing lights and the loud noises, I’m just a broken soul trying to find a way to mend the hearts of the people around me.
Even if it’s something I can’t change, or something that’s completely out of control, as long as I’m involved, I feel like I’m the eye of the storm. The people around me don’t deserve to be caught up in the aftereffects. No one deserves anything but happiness.
It doesn’t matter what it is. It could be something as simple as an outing with a friend, when we’re all out of words and we have nothing to do, and we just sit around. I’ll feel guilty for being so incompetent with my words, that everyone is not having as much fun as they should be.
I’m so tired of all of this. I’m so tired of the pain and the wounds and the labels and the guilt and the failures. I’m so tired to the point I don’t even know if what I need is a 10-year hibernation or starting a new life, no strings attached.
I don’t want labels to define me. I want to be who I am because I want to be that way. I don’t want judgement to bother me. I don’t want stereotypes to dictate where I go. I want to break free of the chains that tie me down.
I want to stop feeling guilty of everything. I want to feel happy when I’m with people, to not feel guilty that I’m letting people down, that I may not be who they think I am. I want to be comfortable in my own skin, and to be proud of where I’ve been and who I’ve become.
I want to celebrate the successes in my life, whether mine or the people I care about, whether big or small, as long as it’s another step towards my happiness.
I want to be selfish, to put me first sometimes, to not be okay with okay. I want to chase my dreams, to live a life that I’ve always wanted, to move to my dream cities, to New York or London or Tokyo. I want to write for as long as I live and to make music with my every breath, to perform with everything I’ve got and to put a smile on people’s faces with my words.
I don’t want to settle because of what other people say, of who they think I should be, of who I think I should be. I don’t want to settle because I belittle myself, of how I throw away any milestones I reach just because it’s not big enough. I don’t want to settle because of the guilt that gnaws in my heart from things that I cannot control.
I want to be comfortable in my own skin, to live each day like it’s my last, to live in the present, and not in the past or the future.
I don’t want to be okay with okay.
Because that’s far from okay.
I want the best life I can live, to be free, to be me.
To be the girl that soars through the clouds even though she had once lost her wings.