I remember one conversation that I had with a friend back in the day when we were in high school.
We saw a lady in her car and she was wearing high heels and she looked like everything we wanted to be, at that moment.
We considered ourselves grown up enough to desire to be that, we felt less than, not measuring up to that by being in our high school uniforms.
We were envious and feeling like we are doing something wrong with our lives that’s why we are not there, we were just in high school though. With exams to prepare for.
Me and my friend desired that life at the same time, and no one said it loudly. But me the know it all, who doesn’t like silence and who didn’t like things to go unaddressed, told my friend, ‘you know we can be her, live her life, but not while in school, we are definitely gonna live like her, independent, whole and all but not now, this is not a time for that, if we get through this season as well, we will have her life’
I have a habit of looking at other people’s lives and cry.
I also have a habit of looking at other people’s lives and feel good about mine.
I admit i love the second act more. I also admit that it makes me lazy to push myself any further. Feeling good about myself makes me feel like I have arrived. I don’t have to strive for more, and I feel better than and secretly I like that.
I think there are areas in my life that I expected i would fix before 25.
25 was such a big landmark to me that I don’t understand how I’m here, like this, here, now. I don’t know when we started equating age with things to achieve in life or goals.
Some days I am a better version of myself, i wake up early, i pray, i do some devotions, i exercise, i do house chores without complaining, i eat, spend time with family, i read books, i post positive stuffs on my blog and my statuses.
Some weeks, I don’t go out of the gate of our house. I stay inside, filled with rage, I say things to the people i love that on a good day i do best not to, in fact i judge those who do, because on a good day i never think that there will a bad day, or that I’m a mess too.
On a bad day, I’m my own worst enemy. I fear myself.
I am a good person, but somedays, some weeks i ask myself if good is a high standard for me to reach, maybe bad isn’t bad after all?
On a bad day, the question is have I really arrived? Or that is the lie that I believed last week?
I have lived life long enough to know that it’s a circle of good and bad. The bad days make us appreciate the good day even more. The bad day help us grow, learn more about ourselves, our communities and if we maybe find beauty in our tragedies something good is gonna come out of those bad days. It’s a circle, or an up and down movement, forever.
Maybe the solution is to show myself grace for the days that i feel like i am not good.
Maybe I can be her, the woman in high heels, but not in this season.
Not now, while I’m still in school uniforms with an assignment waiting to be done.
Maybe if i get through this season as well, i will have her life.