Early this morning, before I'd even gone to sleep, I lay in bed, wide awake with the realization that I shouldn't be sad. This came, of course, after a marathon viewing of What About Brian. Here's what I decided.
My life is not a tragedy. Sure, things don't always go the way I wanted or expected them to; my life is not what I had imagined as a little girl... But it isn't all that bad. I'm intelligent and I have dreams. Not only that, but I'm constantly taking steps to make my dreams happen. I'm in college, a place to which some never make it, and I'm doing well.
I'm going to be fine because I am a person who cares about others. People can make snap judgments about me and decide they don't like me or even accuse me of being judgmental, but the truth is, I'm a loving and forgiving person. I know not all people are perfect. Trust me, I know this. And I don't expect anyone to perfect. I of all people know how hard it can be to live up to others' expectations and I couldn't put that pressure on others. And there are people who love me. It may not be a perfect love and maybe sometimes I feel alone but the truth is, I'm OK with that. There is no one on this earth who never feels lonely. I just have to remind myself of that.
Also, because I am a forgiving person, I'm going to forgive the one person I've been hardest on lately. My mother. I'm going to stop talking about her and how much I hate her boyfriend, cause let's face it, I do. But that's not the point. The point is, she's making her own choices. And while they do affect me, I'm not going to let them bother me anymore. I will learn from her relationship -- I will take away from it the knowledge that I want something better. I don't mean to sound rude, it's just the way I see it. And that's the thing -- I'm not saying that what I see is the absolute truth and so I will from now on stop worrying about it. My mother can live her life and include me when she wants to. In the meantime, I'll do other things to entertain myself.
Speaking of love, I realize that love, true love, at least the kind I envision for myself, doesn't come along every day. And I shouldn't beat myself up that it hasn't because some day, at least I hope, I'll find what I've been looking for. I'll find love with someone who will work with me on our relationship, someone who will support me as much as I support him, someone who is driven in his own life so that he can understand my drive. He'll come.
He'll be tall, and kind of muscular, and he'll like to read -- at least he'll read what I write -- and he'll watch football with me without getting upset that he has to explain some of the rules again and again, and he'll watch romantic comedies with me even if he refuses to admit it to his friends. Most importantly, he'll love me just the way I am and will make me a priority. We'll be partners but he also won't be afraid to take care of me now and then.
He might not be here right now, and maybe he isn't even right around the corner, but somewhere down the road I'm on, there he is. And the thing is, I know I don't have to do all the work to find him. I'll take chances, follow the signs, and someday, there he'll be, just as great as I'd imagined him to be.
I finally think I get it. Who I am, I mean. It's so much more simple than I used to think. I am Rosella Eleanor LaFevre. I am a human being. I am fallible and I am beautiful. I am someone with dreams and the drive to make them reality. I am passionate, in all meanings of the word. I am a highly emotive being, and that's not something I need to apologize for. I am a caring person. I love my family and my friends. I am a giver. I love taking care of other people, I love helping whenever possible. This doesn't make me weak, as has been suggested. I do it because it makes me feel good, not because I seek the approval of others. Oh, and that's another thing. I don't need others to validate me, to tell me I'm a good person. I know I am. I am someone who loves to write; it being my favorite thing to do. I love a good book, and a good movie, and a good TV show. I love being someplace I feel comfortable and can't wait to have my own home someday. I am more of a homebody than anything else. I love good food. I realize life is short, and I refuse to make excuses or apologize for doing what I want.
I am all these things and more. That last rambling paragraph may not sound so simple, but the truth is, I've been those things all along. That's what made it so simple. I can't believe I never really realized it. I kept expecting that the meaning of "me" was something lofty... It isn't. I am defined by the things I do, the way I act, the things I keep in my heart. That's the truth and that's the answer to the question I've been pondering for so long.
One last thing:
Life, I've discovered, is messy. But that's what makes it beautiful. We all make mistakes. We learn, we grow. Sometimes we repeat our mistakes or lose track of where we're headed or what we want. Sometimes we need to slow down and think things over, but neither should we be scared to race full speed ahead. The only thing worse than living is dying. And I don't plan on doing that for a really long time, so I'm just going to plunge head first into the deep end.
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