Since as long as I can remember, I always wanted to travel, to meet people, to go on the road. I felt like where I was wasn’t where I was meant to be. Are we meant to be somewhere ? I always thought that I needed to go, to change, to found myself.
So I did so many changes is my life to “found myself”. I’m happy to be unable to tell you how much countries I saw, how many cities I’ve be to and how many people I met. “Travels make the Youth” like we say in France. Did they made me? Did all the joy, the pain, the laughs and the smiles helped me to found myself??
I changed so many time haircuts or the color of my hair! Brunette, black, blonde, pink, blue, purple, lilac, orange, green… To be able to realize that at the end: long, short or colored, I’m just as bored of my hair the same way. It’s fun but I wasn’t able to “found myself” through a hairstyle. Or through fashion eather…
So I started to question myself. If I need to found myself, who have been with theses last 26 years ! We spend so much time wishing to found who we are meant to be when in the same time, we’ve been treating ourself like a stranger.
A bit before my birthday I just looked at myself. But not like I’ve been looking at myself the last 16 years. I didn’t looked at which part of my body I want different, which part are okay, what kind of hairstyle I need to do and if I need to wear my contact lenses. For the first time in a pretty damn long time, I looked at myself like I look at my friends, my family, my colleagues or a stranger in the street. I just looked. And I almost felt ashame of who I’ve been for me all this time.
We don’t realize how much pressure we put on ourself. We won’t do this bulling on anyone else! I realized that I’ve a bitch to myself for the last 16 years or more, wanting to found someone else that I can call “myself”instead of me. I realized that I always tried to be nice to everyone, to say how much I like their clothes, their smile or their music tastes. I always tried to apologize when I need to, when I did or said something that I shouldn’t had to.
So I realize that it’s time. It’s time to give myself some fucking good apologies.
I’m sorry. I’ve been so ruff on me. And I’m sorry that I thought I wasn’t enough: skinny enough, sexy enough, cool enough. I deserved a better me that I’ve been to me. And I will be a better me for me. I will stop to look for another self. I’m gonna start to found what makes myself happy.