People always say that college is the time to explore and find yourself. A lot of times, this concept takes place in the form of self destruction. Excessive alcohol, drugs and partying. Destructive friendships and relationships. Poor academic performance. You name it, you destruct it, it's all apart of the process. As I sit and reflect on my first semester, I realized I may have found myself, but not in the way I wanted to. I have not gone through the typical self destructive behavior, but through all of the massive changes and exploration, I have found myself. I just don't know I like the state I found myself in...
See, I had this conversation tonight. Someone I care for basically said to me, I want to know your story, but I will never make you tell me. If you know me at all, you know I'm a horribly guarded person. I build my walls and I do not take them down unless necessary. With that said, if you know my story, you know I have good reason for my walls being built.
Let me get this straight, I don't like the walls I've built. I spend many a days wishing I could tear them down simply with a little poke where the walls fall and disintegrate into nothing. Rather, for me to take down my walls, it's like going at tons and tons of masonry with a toothpick. Tonight, I managed to poke all the way through the masonry to allow someone to see a peephole into my life. It's a peephole, but to me, it feels like a gaping hole in the ozone layer.
I admitted things I don't think I could regularly admit. Ask me? I'll never admit to anything. I will never admit I have a fear of commitment, that I am unable to trust people, that I am cynical (and for good reason), that I question that my drive will get in the way of my relationships, that I fully believe my dreams will leave me forever alone, and a multitude of other things that make me a mess of contradictions and doubt.
And tonight, I admitted to the intricacies that make me who I am. I don't know that I want to be as intricately layered as I am. I don't know that I want to be this complex and cynical. I'm not as depressed as this blog post makes me sound, but I want things to be different. For some reason, admitting to my life story out loud made me feel like I had found me. I had found the answers I had been looking for, and I had admitted life to myself. I just found me in a place where the earth is no longer below my feet. With that being said, after saying my life story, I expected a push back. A denial and negation. A departure. That the story is too much for any one person. Instead the answer was, I accept you, I understand you, and it's okay.
And that's the truth of the matter. It is okay. It is okay to explore and to be you in whatever broken and beautiful state you're in. Your intricacies are unique to you. It's not about who you become in the end. It's about the journey you take to get there. It's about the things you learn, and how you use them to help others. As for me? I've been exploring, but the abyss is dense and dark. I'll float into a new phase of my life where the walls fall away as the earth returns below my feet.
On to float through the abyss..
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