what everybody else has

I am so sick of getting hurt.

It’s not fair, going through heartbreak time after time, and almost always one-sided loves. It’s exhausting, chasing after a meaningful relationship and expecting to find so much fulfillment. It’s detrimental to my mental, physical, and spiritual well-being, measuring my worth to what everybody else has.

So what does everybody else have?

Everybody else has a size two figure.

Everybody else has a voice that won’t get lost in the crowd.

Everybody else has a 4.0.

Everybody else has somebody.

Everybody else but me.

Of course, this isn’t accurate. I can name a few of my closest friends who don’t have any or most of those things either. But that doesn’t change the fact that I feel so alone.

I find it amusing that the moments we feel the most isolated are usually the moments when the most love is abounding. Family and friends are never in short supply, yet we feel as though no one in the entire universe could possibly begin to comprehend the kind of pain and suffering we are enduring.

It only goes to show how spoiled and materialistic we first-world humans are when we can’t seem to see the thing we need the most sitting right before our eyes.

God and I have been treading on this slippery slope for the past six or seven months. Maybe even longer. I can’t seem to stick with a routine, and He, of course, has been evermore patient with me. I feel like a sticky, ugly mess inside. Not quite broken, but most definitely on the way there.

I keep chasing after things I hope will bring me happiness, fulfillment, and maturity. But not only have I been unable to catch any of those things, but even as I am trying to catch them I already know they won’t give me what I am seeking.

All I have ever wanted is to fit in. I’ve always desired what everybody else seems so happy with–a boyfriend, a nice car, a dream college education, a healthy palate, a burdenless body. But it is only now, just shy of seventeen, that I am beginning to realize that I was not created to be like everybody else.  

If God had designed me with the same passions and dreams and talents as the person beside me, I would not be me. I would be the person beside me.

I can see now how naïve I’ve been. Young, reckless, clouded by the desperate hope that I can look like that girl or that if I could only land a boyfriend, I’d finally be whole. I’ve been growing my roots in infertile soil, expecting roses to sprout forth. But maybe roses were never in my future (despite my middle name).

I know I’m a few days late, but I’ve settled on a resolution for 2017. Except, it isn’t exactly a resolution more than it is a word.

I decided that 2016 was the beginning. Instead of 2016 ending on December 31st, 2017 shall continue where 2016 left off. I will continue to grow and mature and prosper and flourish, becoming more the person God designed me to be every day. As my last post mentioned, courage and bravery started to plant their roots in my life ever so subtly in 2016. Therefore, my word for 2017–the word I will write everywhere, think about when I can’t seem to turn my mind off, pray about when I can’t seem to find any, and generally live by–is confidence.

Instead of looking at what everybody else has, I am actively choosing to look at what I have. How I can be a better version of me, someone who loves others so fiercely and confidently walks the path set before her. Thanking God for my family, my friends, my job, my car, my junior year, my soccer team, my relentless passion for writing–my life.

And oh, what a blessed life that is.