Perfectly imperfect

Dear diary,

   Everything that happened around me lately helped me realize how imperfect we all are, how afraid we are to not meet expectations, worried about an uncertain grown up future, angry knowing we don't own everything we want, sad thinking everybody judges us. We're truly our own biggest enemies. We are the ones who stop ourselves from reaching daily happiness by allowing all the negative emotions make room in our mind. We're living in a constant fear, we love and grow dependent of the ones we love, forgetting that we have to love ourselves first in order to have a basic happy life. 

   Today I didn't wear any makeup while going to work and I still smiled. I inhaled the fresh air, watched the birds chirping, the sun rays reaching me through fresh green trees, colorful people walking to work and I smiled again saying "You know what? I'm beautiful just the way I am. And today I love myself." It was such an important start of a good day. I focused on watching happy people pass me by, I imagined their happy little lives and I told myself again the mantra of a wise friend I adopted last night: "I'm not happy all the day, but I'm happy every day." And so I shall. I will accept that I am perfect in my imperfection and I will allow myself to have good days and bad days, cooking experiments gone wild and tears now and then. Because it's all natural. But I will focus on the negative side less and less... and when the world seems too hard to bear, I'll call a friend and bear it together. Cos two is always better than one.

Sunny and proud,

D.

Day 278. Dilemma

   Life is a series of paradoxes. All waiting to be lived. Again and again.

  When we're little we depend on our parents for everything. Even if we don't realize it then we take all the information they send towards us, willingly or not. And so we somehow become mini versions of them (try thinking about it before saying a definite "not true!"). After that, when we reach teenage years we suddenly want to be independent and take life in our own hands. We feel misunderstood and neglected by the same parents who covered us in their affection all those previous years. Weird, huh? Further on, as we grow older we give birth to other types of dependencies and it turns out we're never actually as independent as we want to believe. Yeah, we state it out loud, but deep down we each have our own issue we want to get rid of. Can we, really? No matter how hard we try, it will haunt us forever. It's the dependence our parents instilled in us. It's what they did wanting us to be perfect and forgetting to let us be "ourselves". 

   So in the end, is it really MY life? Or is it a repeated sequence of the same life changed in a chapter or two? Are we the reminiscent life of the ones before us?