A few years ago, I knew what I wanted to do with all the certainty and energy of a teenager coming of age, discovering what it means to be alive.
I wanted to travel the world- to drift with ease wherever my heart takes me. I wanted to meet people at the drop of a hat, and find my way; fearless, unapologetic. I wanted to see the world through a lens that was not coloured by anxiety, by regret, or any shade of grey, and i wanted to leave my mark before i fade to credits.
But I'm no superman. Instead, I discovered a world that is not friendly to enthusiasm or diversity. Even harder to deal with, I discovered that I could not move through the world with the grace and emotional resilience my youthful self envisioned. I felt myself falling into the same emotional anti-patterns that plagued my early teenage years; the self-conscious, the helpless introspection, the walls closing in that grow harder and harder to break free of.
But I've done this a few times now. I see my young expectations are rather unrealistic; It takes time to settle, to meet people, and you don't have to be happy all the time. I realise that the things that matter to me take time to build, and I don't need to make myself worry if I have made no progress in a few weeks. The timeline of my life is measured in years not months.
I know I wanted it all and that was foolish, but thats okay. I'm not superhuman.
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