I’m ready for someone else to break my heart, because that means I will finally be over you.
You left me and life took me around the world. Thank you so much for allowing me that growth.
Though I’ve always been cognizant of the human tendency to adapt and change, to grow and develop as the years go by, I often found myself hesitant to accept the changes that came about in those closest to me. It wasn’t until I began hearing comments, with respect to my own persona, that signaled and pointed out that I too was victim to change, that I even considered revisiting this concept.
Change…a funny word it is…It implies the making of or becoming something different…Am I different than the person I once was only 6 or 7 years ago? Sure. For one, I’m older. I’m also probably smarter, more “experienced” on so many levels, wiser, and so many more things than I was at 18. Yet, until very recently, I stubbornly claimed to hold the true essenece of self completely intact. Silly me….
As previously mentioned, I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting and have come to the conclusion that I have in fact, like so many others, changed…a lot. No longer can I claim to be the same naive, bright-eyed, passionate 18-year old I once was. I’ve lived, I’ve experienced, and I’ve changed… inmensely. I’ve found disillusionment where I once saw hope. I’ve found hope through disillusionment. My outlook on life and the perspectives/lenses through which I now see and experience the world have changed. My position within the world has radically shifted. Privileges once had have left me, only to be replaced with radically new ones, some of which I have yet to grow accustomed to. My demeanor, my interests, my expression, even key values have become victim to change. My speech has changed. Heck, even my Spanish has changed.
I often wonder how visible these changes are to those closest to me. My best friends, my family. Who do they recognize as the real me? Am I in the right? Or is my understanding of self simply a product of my wild imagination, borrowed from the endless number of romantic novels I periodically inundate my brain with?
It’s something I ponder from time to time. I, Cecilia Venegas, have changed. Whether the implications of such a change are overall positive or negative is something I will not attempt to unravel here. My guess is that this decision is a subjective one. Those for whom my prior “persona” presented them with a unique opportunity to exert their power, might perceive such changes as negative. And yet for others these changes simply reflect a natural progression towards the person they always knew I really was.
So…Yes. People change. There is no shame in embracing it.
For the first time in years I can sincerely claim to have complete control of life.
No, I’m not exactly where I want to be, financially, socially, and especially not romantically-speaking. Yet, I’m in a position wherein a sincere and promising pursuit of these idealistic notions of happiness is even feasible. I say this because up until the beginning of this year, my approach to life was very much aligned to a false conception of what I wanted. That is not to say that I lived the last decade of my life in a complete and utter state of bitter unhappiness or regret. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve had numerous experiences which together have forged and redefined who I am as a person. And that, I do not regret. Yet, after a long and overdue extended period of reflection into my true self, I have come to the realization that these did not often happen because of the life I was living, but rather in spite of it.
Life for me has been a series of circumstancial mishaps, which have nonetheless allowed for the seeping in of many a joyous, adventurous and truly unique experiences. It’s amazing how much I’ve been able to enjoy and accomplish despite not always following my own guts when it came to life decisions.
The fact is that somewhere along the way, I became complacent. I don’t know where, when, or why this happened, but it happened. Somewhere along the way, my dreams and aspirations became those bestowed and thrown at me. Naturally, some of these became my own and sparked new interestes and passions. Yet, I cannot help and think of what might have been had I followed my own from the beginning… Who knows what might have been. Perhaps I’d be a better person. Perhaps, worse. Though these thoughts and tangents naturally emerge when reflecting, I’m learning to let them go. Why lament what hasn’t happened when I could take responsibilty and have control over what could still happen?
And, that is my promise and commitment to myself.
No longer will I dwell on what doesn’t happen, or on what goes wrong. My focus will shift towards what makes me truly happy, and what goes well. No longer will I live in a state of regret or concern for the insignificant life mishaps. I will live for the moments of pure joy, adventure and discovery.
And, I am glad to report, that I have stayed true to this commitment, at least thus far. Already, I’ve begun to reap the benefits of such a life, glimpses of which I’ve experienced in years past when traveling and having other spontaneous adventures for the sake of pure fun. I’ve gone skydiving, finally traveled to Europe, made significant gains in developing a more trusting personality and “opening up” to people, and sincerely think I’ve become a more pleasant person to be around altogether. (not that I’ve ever been completely unpleasant…) I can only hope this upward trend will continue to lead me to a life of true ”success.” What exactly that “success” entails is a topic to be dealt with in a future post…I could spend an entire day writing about that.
So, in an effort to avoid a never-ending rant of nonsense, which my posts naturally become after a while, I shall end with this:
“Finish each day and be done with it. you have done what you could. some blunders and absurdities have crept in; forget them as soon as you can. tomorrow is a new day. you shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense”
Truth is I liked him, a lot, more than I let on, or even let myself admit. Truth is I always did. Many years, in fact. Truth is I miss him more than I let on. Truth is I’ve learned to let go, given the implausible nature of anything remotely resembling a real relationship with said boy. Truth is I’m dumb. I know. Oh well..At least my Harvard degree will at times compensate for such a loss…Alas