I am still learning, about myself, about others and the world I inhabit and often aimlessly crash about in. I am still learning and that is ok, despite others saying it isn’t, despite others saying I should know better by now. Well, the matter of the fact is, I don’t, not right now, not yet and maybe not for some time but I am working on it.
The storm I have created for myself as of late has caught more people in its eye than I would have cared for but I guess that’s the thing with storms, you can’t actually control them. I’m twenty-five and I’m making mistakes that I shouldn’t be making. The only way I can make sense of it all, is that I’m making these mistakes, I’m blooming late in this respect because I bloomed so fast in the other. I lived in a bubble, from fifteen to twenty-four and then all of a sudden I burst my own bubble and stepped out, single and for lack of a better term alone.
I’m making mistakes my friends made at eighteen, twenty, twenty-one and so on. I’m making choices I shouldn’t be making and I’m learning late but that isn’t to say I’m not learning. It’s hard being told I should know better because yeah, of course, I should but I’m trying to not let the space between what I’m doing and what I should be doing not define how I feel about myself. Despite arriving late to the party of life’s answers, I’m trying. I’m trying to be better, to learn from what I’m doing, to be kinder and not pull people into my self-destructive storm. I’m trying to not be self-destructive, despite being so for the majority of my mundane life. I’m trying, every day to learn about who I am and who I want to be.
I am not defined by mistakes. I am not defined by words I have said, that have become twisted and mangled along the grapevine. I am defined by how other people see me. Simply because I am yet to be defined and maybe I never will be, and honestly, that’s ok with me. We spend so much of our lives trying to define ourselves, to be definite and sure of who we are. I don’t know if I will ever be sure of who I am, I don’t think I will ever be fixed. Maybe the best thing about not being definite is being infinite. It gives me comfort to think so.
Take care and be kind.