I’ve noticed with each passing year, my priorities have shifted a lot. I used to think money was the end all and was a bit misguided to think so. I spent several years like this and came to realize this wasn’t the least bit correct. Money is important, but it’s not a magic bandaid for all your problems or your family.
It’s one of the main reasons why I majored in psychology. I had two reasons: I could pursue a career in helping others and also figure out what makes me tick inside. I’ve wondered what makes me go and if the thoughts and feelings I had were unique or common. For this reason, I’ve felt odd when I was a teenager. It wasn’t your typical teenage angst you see so much with everyone. I felt an overwhelming sense of isolation and loneliness. I wanted deeper insight into myself and answers for questions I wasn’t entirely ready to ask.
It’s one of the best things I ever did for myself. I found the light and felt less terrified for why I felt this way. Why things the way they were with my family. The odd behaviors my parents have. The dynamics of their often troubled relationship I’ve grown accustomed to seeing. It all made sense after a while. Much to my surprise, I figured out I wasn’t crazy for thinking this way. They are as they always will be — summarizing six years of schooling in that subject.
I’m not alone.
The last several years haven’t been a walk in the park. I’ve had three relationships come and go. Those select women whom I used to love taught me a lot about myself. Learning to self-accept, learning to better listen, learning to take responsibility for my actions, and more importantly, finding a path to self-improvement. We didn’t always agree on every topic — which is something I’m thankful for. It turns out having someone who always agrees does you no good. I get turned off and somewhat suspicious when I date and hear yeses and mmhmms. I tend to think it’s lacking in sincerity. All I’m looking for is that — honesty.
Last year, I took it upon myself to write more — both here and whatever scraps of paper I have with me at the coffee shop. I’ve come to like it a great deal not for just better articulating my thoughts into words, but finding it to be therapeutic. I appreciate alone time more. I still have a tendency to edit after a blog post is made or worse, convince myself it has to be deleted. I’m working on that and hope to be less of a critic to myself.
This year, I’m hopeful it’s like every other year. One of personal fulfillment, goals being met, shared experiences with those I hold dear, and to not repeat the same mistakes from the past. I’m only human. I’m imperfect. I strive to be the best person I can be. If I know this and hold myself up to this standard, I’ll feel less anxious, less worried, more relaxed, and remain optimistic for my future.
The future is met with unknowns. Who knows who I’ll end up or where I’ll end up. I try to be consistent and relentlessly give others the time and attention they deserve. It might be one of the best qualities about myself if I am going to be a bit less modest.
It doesn’t deter me and shouldn’t anyone for that matter.