I am currently sat in a coffee shop (once again) staring at my blank notes on my laptop and trying to come up with a blog post in which i can express every radical and deep thought that surrounds my head at this moment in time.
I think one of the things that I have always been most scared of is judgement. The idea that I will never be good enough for anyone, and that I will occasionally be open to scrutiny and not find a way out from it.
When I write endless blog posts about how I am me, or about how I have grown as a person, I do it as more of my own personal reflection of who I’m becoming and I’m proud of it. I’m proud of the fact that people can now presume I’m ‘this and that,’ and I will honestly take no notice of it because I know who I am.
I occasionally like to reflect on self confidence and wow, this is something I still can’t believe is real. I was always one of those people who wished people would be more confident in themselves because there are so many genuinely beautiful people in this world who simply don’t see that, but never told myself the same thing. I can’t tell you how many times I used to purposely avoid mirrors because I physically couldn’t accept who I was.
In fact, it was only last week on a night out that I wore a short body con dress that I would’ve never imagined wearing 5 months ago. i feel like I’m going on a preachy tangent, but I am extremely emotional right now and would cry into my cold brew that is sat next to me but the only thing left is the sugar at the bottom. Typical.
Maybe we all have our own unique space in this world and we don’t see it. Maybe fate works in weird and wonderful ways. Maybe our friends are our friends to make us who we are. Maybe our ex relationships are our hurtful past to in fact, make us stronger. Maybe the people who drift in and out of our lives is the worlds way of telling us to make the most of people in our lives while they’re here.
I often look up at the sky and think all these things. I mean, I’m only eighteen yeas old. I’m young. I have so much more of life to experience, yet it all seems to make sense to me at the moment… in a jumbled sort of way. I probably have another 5,000 relationship break-ups to come my way, and god knows how many jobs until I find the one that seems to suit me best. But instead of thinking about boys, or relationships I look up at the sky and think about life. And people. And how my life is just beginning, and how excited I am to see what’s next in store for me.
The fact is, I’m an avid thinker. I am looking round this coffee shop right now and thinking about people’s lives. About how they manage to pay bills, or mortgages, or even student finances. At the moment, i don’t have to worry about that. But at the end of the day, maybe that doesn’t matter. if you have no money now, trust fate to work everything out. Maybe I’m naive. But maybe living is simply the only fundamental part to life.
I can’t write poetry. I physically can’t. i always sit there and write poems about heartbreak and about how sad I may be feeling one night. I can’t rhyme to save my life. None of it really flows, but for some reason, I still want to publish a book full of ‘bad poetry.’ Nothing has to be perfect, though. Not even my own writing. Gosh, my blog is full of rambling posts about life and I think I fluff my writing too much. But my bad poetry makes me, me. My dodgy blind eye makes me, me. My mistakes make me, me.
This is an insight into my head and my thoughts. In fact, I’m thinking about texting my best friend back right now because I accidentally forgot to this morning and now I am worrying about how she is. Maybe I care too much about the small things, but sometimes they’re the best things to live for. Like laughing until you can’t physically breathe. Sitting in a coffee shop for two hours writing about life. Spending time with friends. Looking up at the sky, and trees, and nature. Let your life live in itself.
Love and happiness always,