"Back beat the word is on the street that the fire in your heart is out"
October 25, 2010 § 1 Comment
I was reminded the other day, that despite all my gung ho-ness of moving forward, how much of the past I’m still holding on to.
In what can only be described as the fastest slow month of my life, I’ve had to adapt to a series of new challenges and adventures, and still finding it difficult to comprehend the reality of everything that has now become part of the everyday. For someone as neurotic as me, there has been no adjustment period because time did not allow for such luxuries. Instead, I’ve been thrown into this very bizarre dichotomy where it’s hard to believe that this is me, that this my life, while simultaneously feeling more comfortable in my own skin than I have in recent memory.
As many of the readers of this blog are aware (all six and a half of you), I have taken the sharpest of career path turns, taking a cautious step into new and exciting territory. To be removed from such a structured life to one with so much freedom can be a difficult pill to swallow (especially for someone who loves her planner as much as I do). In these past few months, I have often felt an overwhelming amount of panic as to what my next move should be, or even, in which direction I should point my feet.
From this beginning of this unexpected expedition, I have promised myself only one thing: that I would be more open than I’ve ever been, both in career choices and in personal growth. It would have been far too presumptuous and unrealistic to say that I was going to completely change who I was, and who I am. At 25, my past experiences have already formed a solid foundation, and after all the ambiguity, all the confusion, all the gray area – I am finally in a position where there are certain truths that cannot be moved or chipped away. But even with the gospels of my life, I know that it’s foolish to believe that I will forever remain the same person.
And who would want to? Who can be that stubborn? Or that dedicated?
Not too long ago, I came to the stark realization I had unknowingly allowed certain experiences to influence me in ways that I am now trying to reverse. I will admit now, that at the beginning, after certain events, I was trying to portray the image of someone I thought I should be. The problem was that I did this during my most susceptible years, the time period where I was most impressionable, before I could realize the harm I was really doing. When you become your biggest influence, your strongest advocate, it’s only a matter of time before you accept certain things as the truth. And when you begin to build on that, it becomes increasingly more difficult to admit your mistakes and convince yourself to go back. It becomes nearly impossible to distinguish the real with the pretend. It wasn’t until a fiery battle that I confessed to myself that I had become a caricature of who I really was (and wanted to be).
I was incorrect in stating earlier that I’ve been shaped by my experiences. I don’t think it’s the experiences that change us, more so as our responses to those experiences. No matter how false the pretenses may have been, the bottom line is, I am who I am now because I chose to respond in a particular way. And clearly, I wasn’t aware of how significant those choices would be, because it wouldn’t be nearly as difficult to walk away now. Certain experiences, or, more precisely, the emotions involved with certain experiences, don’t just disappear. They become part of the fabric that is you, they become part of the choices that you make, inherently or not.
Even though they may have been made on a shaky infrastructure, I can’t say that I completely regret making those choices. They have become the ultimate defense mechanism, protecting and preventing me from making the same mistakes and becoming too vulnerable to careless inclinations. The problem is that this has become too automatic, and I may have become a little too callused, a little too protected, a little too defensive.
Recently, someone boldly told me that people don’t change, that maybe we wish to, but we ultimately don’t. I think that’s a crock of shit. If you’re growing, if you’re evolving, you’re stepping away from the standard, from what you were. And that is change. By trying to correct my mistakes, that is change. By even acknowledging the need to, that is change. Every adjustment, every addition, every subtraction, big or small, contributes to change. When you no longer are what you were, that is, by all purposes of definition, change.
There are many things I am sure of, but there are many others I am not. I’m not talking about a complete rebuild, because I am plenty comfortable with certain aspects of who I am. I would like to consider this more as a partial remodel, a repair, if you may. Still though, a wall that took a decade in building will be difficult to penetrate.
No wrecking ball, only a sledgehammer.
soopastryheart 
Reading this entry gives me a lot to think about and in a way, serves as advice. Thanks!
You'll pull through Soo. You are after all, my sister.
Hope all is well. Love you.