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The best days of your life

I swear, parents must have a secret club or something that they all attend to right before big events in their kids’ life. I mean, it seems too much of a coincidence that they all end up saying the same exact things most of the times. For instance, who hasn’t had a parent (doesn’t even have to be yours) tell you, almost right before you head out to university to ‘make sure you enjoy it as much as you can because these will be the best days of your life‘. Right? Well, it may seem innocuous, but these are the type of phrases that actually hurt more than they do any good. Let me explain.

I went to university with pressure. I was not one of those teenagers who was counting down the days until they could finally leave their past behind and start from scratch somewhere else, somewhere where they could be ‘free’ for the first time (I’m not sure where this dramatic teenager came from, but we’ll just go with it). I personally feared that freedom. I didn’t want anything to do with it. I had everything I wanted back home so why on earth would I want to leave? But then again, if what they said was true, I had absolutely nothing to fear.

For the sake of anyone reading this, let’s just say that things didn’t go as planned and my university experience didn’t turn out to be that great in the end. And to be honest, that would have been just fine if it hadn’t been for that stupid little phrase. ‘Remember these are the best days of your life, Elena. Don’t fuck it up’. I just couldn’t shake it off. Even though I would try to convince myself that those words were utter bullshit in my case, year after year, I would still hold on to the hope. Granted, this hope was shrinking by the minute and clearly overpowered by an increasingly big sense of failure, but it was there nonetheless. ‘What’s wrong with me?’

When I said that those words weren’t innocuous, I didn’t just mean it because I think they set unnecessarily high expectations for clueless teenagers as they set out to go to university. What people don’t realise is that once that bar is not met the first time, it unfortunately doesn’t just magically disappear from one’s head (I wish). It’s had time to dig its way into a tiny little comfortable nook deep inside our brains, so it stays there, just waiting to be met someday. And it’s impatient. Yes, the nook’s comfortable, but what about that bar? Aren’t you a little curious? Eager to see what it feels like to be there? Or even better: what it feels like to be on the other side? I mean, people say it’s great, so it must be.

And so the search continues and the pressure keeps piling up, just as your expectation rises exponentially. ‘Choose a job you love, and you’ll never work a day in your life’. I mean… No. Just no.

Unless you’re really lucky (in that case, how did you do it and from what planet did you come from, can I move please), your twenties should be filled with trials, errors, ups, downs, lefts and rights. It should be a time exclusively reserved to figuring things out. A time for dreaming big while constantly bumping into reality, which coincidentally always seems to be in the way of great plans. I have been postponing the ‘best days of my life’ for years. Now hear me out, I am by no means saying that my life isn’t great as it is or that I’m not fortunate to have the things I have. This is not about that. It’s about never being content, no matter what. I mean, how could you when your standards are that high? Think about it: the best days. Why couldn’t it just have been a simple ‘you’ll have a great time’ or ‘things won’t be as bad as you imagine them to be’? No. It had to be the best days, and on top of that, the best days of your freaking life. How about that for starting things off with realistic expectations? How in the world could you top that? You can’t. And in fact, you shouldn’t.

Imagine no one would have told me such thing. I would gone to university, clueless, with fear, hoping for the worst (as I usually tend to do), and I would have come out with a friend for life and a degree. Not bad, right? I’m not saying you always have to hope for the worst. That doesn’t help much, trust me. But hoping for it to be the best of the best is not ideal either.

Words are dangerous. They stick, just like memories. So if you’re a parent reading this, first of all, take this lightly – I tend to over-exaggerate when I write – and be careful. Things are always better and easier in hindsight. Your kid’s not there yet. Let him or her figure it out for him/herself.

And yes, I just finished this post giving advice to parents. Sometimes I honestly make myself laugh out loud, or as the cool kids from 2011 would say (which by this article you’ve all guessed it definitely wasn’t me): “LOL”.

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“Ok Google”… Help.

I was just about to type in “I want to quit my waitressing job but I don’t have anything else aside planned – what should I do?” onto Google when I realised, first of all, how pathetic my quire was, and second of all, what would happen if I actually made an effort to answer it myself, without the help of a machine?

So the first and logical thing to begin by doing here was to ask myself: what sparked this concern? Why did I feel the urge to find an answer to it so quickly? Well, today’s the first day I’ve stayed at home due to ‘illness’. Now, I know it may seem like I’m going on a huge tangent here, but hear me out: today’s the first day I haven’t been to work when I was supposed to and it’s also the first day in weeks that I have been, or at least felt somewhat productive. Coincidence? – I don’t actually know, but for the sake of this article, let’s say – no.

It’s the first day in weeks that I’ve felt proud of my productivity and let me tell you, it has felt right. I’ve felt good and energetic (or as energetic as one can be with a clogged nose), and it’s not like I’ve been editing my ass-off, or writing the new comedy of the year or anything like that, but I’ve been organising my thoughts, getting some shit I had been postponing finally done, and all-in-all being in a productive and most importantly, creative mindset. And that is what hadn’t happened in months (hell, I’ve even managed to write more than 2 lines on an article for my blog). I feel motivated, and the thing is that I’m not sure how I’ll feel after working tomorrow. I’m afraid that once again working’s going to suck the drive out of me, and that I’m going to go back to feeling falsely satisfied with my life as it is, without having any urge to be creative whatsoever.

If it were for me, I’d come in tomorrow and quit. Seriously. That is what my gut tells me anyway. And I’m not saying ‘if it were for me’ as in there’s someone else stopping me from doing it, because even though I would be lying if I said other people’s opinions didn’t affect my decisions (*cough* my mum *cough*), at the end of the day, it’s my life and I can do whatever I want with it, right? Yeah… not quite sure there. As a matter of fact, that is precisely the problem that I have. I can’t actually do whatever I want with my life because that would be irresponsible, and no one wants to be purposely irresponsible, I think? In an idillic world, I would quit my job, spend the days working on regaining my creative drive, slowly start creating again and then eventually applying for something within my field of interest that would pay my rent while I continue to expand and develop my own personal projects.

I’d like to bring special emphasis to the word ‘idillic’ because every time that idea crosses my mind, I am rapidly confronted by the same old “voice of reasoning” or whatever you want to call that old annoying voice getting in the way of anything remotely fun – “But… hear me out: wouldn’t it be more clever to actually work towards the things you long for now that you’ve got time and a stable job, and then quit when you’ve found something that is actually tangible?” Yes. I hear you and it certainly would, but that’s not what my heart is telling me, and ever since I can remember, every single story, every single blogpost, every single inspirational video I’ve seen has told me to follow my freaking heart. So what the hell am I supposed to do now?

I don’t know. I honestly don’t know. Anyway, let me ask Google real quick.

 

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Sin categoría, The posts

The moment you realize you need to start living your own life.

Sounds obvious, right? I mean who else’s would you live it for? Well, the real question is: who else’s life wouldn’t you live for? 

Let me tell you a little “story” (this is completely auto-biographical, I must warn you – though it has a nice message at the end, so I would stick around). During my teenage years I was quite an envious person. I envied everything I didn’t have or that I wasn’t a part of. I envied the relationship my parents had with my brother, the friendship my friends had between them, the life they lead after school, how outgoing they all were comparing to me, and how everyone seemed to have some kind of romantic relationship going on except me.

What I didn’t realize at the time was that because of it I was unconsciously missing out on everything that was going on around me, in my own life. I was so busy caring about what other people had that thinking about my own needs was completely out of the picture. 

Luckily for me, something clicked at one point. I understood things needed to change if I wanted to actually start living my life the way I wanted to. I knew envy was an ugly trait so I made it possible to hide it as much as I possibly could (biting my tongue as many times I needed to). “Fake it till you make it”, right? And so I did. I faked it and then eventually, made it. Kind of. 

What I had actually done during all those years was channel the envious side of me into another deeper feeling. The feeling of loneliness, of not belonging. 

(Wow. This is getting DEEP). 

It’s been 7 years since I started channeling these feelings, and it is only now that I am understanding how much all of it has affected me. Of course, the feeling of not belonging is something that comes from something even deeper in me that I even don’t know what is (how many layers do we actually have?! Seriously!). But I know I’ll get to it. Eventually.

It is just now that I am starting to realize how bad caring too much about other people is and how much it actually consumes your own life.

One quote that stuck to me not long ago was one that said:

 It’s none of your business what other people think about you, just as it’s none of their business what you think of them.

Powerful stuff, right? 

I, personally, am still working on it. But I try to remember this quote as much as I can. Because it is truly none of my business. I’ll belong if I want to belong. I know I am smart enough to know if I do, so why not trust my own judgement? Why trust other’s? Do they know best? (Spoiler alert: the answer is probably no). 

So yeah. I guess what I’m trying to say is: DO NOT GIVE A FUCK.

I know how hard it can me, trust me, but you have to remember people don’t actually care too much about you anyway. 

As I always say, you’re not the black sheep. We all have our inner demons, and let me tell you, most of the time, people are way too busy fighting theirs to even think about anything else. 

So remember, do not make other people’s thoughts your business, because they’re not. Trust me.

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Sin categoría, The posts

Single forever?

Yeah, I hate to be that girl but I have to admit, sometimes, that thought actually worries me.

Deep down I know it can’t be true. It can’t be, right? Here’s my theory. I am completely convinced that everyone has a soulmate (hear me out, there is a bitter ending to this, I’m afraid). I do believe that in a world populated by 7 billion people there is bound to be at least one person that matches perfectly not only with your personality, but also with your needs. I’m sure  (just like I am positive we all have a clone – I just haven’t found mine yet… Not even a celebrity that slightly looks like me… Not even a tiny bit).

I know we all have a soulmate somewhere. Now, the possibilities of you finding that one person in your lifetime? Yeah, probably none. I wouldn’t even venture to say 1% because let’s face it, we both know that’s not possible either. I’m sorry. It would be too much of a coincidence. And even if it happened, even if you found your one true match, you wouldn’t have any way to tell whether it was or not anyway.

However, yes, there are definitely some people that can perfectly complement you and your personality traits. You know, the ying and the yang, opposites attract and all that stuff. Society has trained us to believe it is indeed possible to find that one person. And to be honest, I have nothing against it. Why not? It’s quite a positive thought after all. Completely delusional, granted, but positive nonetheless.

But with unrealistic hopes come expectations, and with expectations inevitably come disappointment. And that’s where the ultimate saying comes into play… You ready? “You’ll find it when you least expect it“. Shoot me. Now.

How the hell am I supposed to do that? Who doesn’t think about that? On a daily basis? No one? Yep. Okay. Just me then. It’s funny because I think the more you think about that phrase, the more you obsess over it, and the more you expect it (which is the last thing you’re supposed to be doing) the more desperate you look… I guess? I don’t know. I honestly long for the day where I won’t be expecting it. Let’s see if the saying proves itself to be right.

Until then. Fuck it.

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Sin categoría, The posts

New Blog. New Beginning.

I don’t even know how many times I’ve started a blog.

I’m sure that you could come up with tons of different websites I’ve signed up to over the years just by typing my name on Google. So let’s make this one the last one, shall we?

(I guess watching Bridget Jones’s Diary yesterday for the millionth time didn’t help either. But diaries are too old school. This is what cool kids do. Right? Right?)

I feel like first posts are the worst. You somehow have to not only present yourself to your potential audience, but also ‘sell’ the blog you’re about to start (and sell it good).

Here’s my attempt at it, let’s see how it goes:

Sometimes, I feel like I’m a black sheep. I just do not fit with the flock. And that’s good, but that’s a hard thing to accept at the same time. Also, I’m an aspiring scriptwriter. Yep… Oh, and I’m in my twenties. Much better, I know. I am aware of how much knowing that you’re not alone can help (more so if the other person is way more screwed than you are – we cruel, cruel species). So yeah, this could be our own online therapy group. Wow. That did NOT sound appealing. At all. Oh well.

That’s it for today. I know how boring long blogposts can be.

Until next time (I hope).

 

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