The 'perfect person' that I always wanted to be – and, for a long time, saw myself as – was kind, sweet, and could do no wrong. The girl that everyone liked; the girl that everyone could depend on; the girl that was described as 'innocent'. Somewhere down the line, it dawned on me that, whilst I share some of the same traits as this 'perfect person', I am definitely not her. And that's okay. But, who am I? (A big can of worms to open – believe me, I know.)
If you cast your minds back to last year's ramble on 'belonging', you'll realise that I haven't really known who I am for a little while now. Hey, that's what entering adult life does to ya! The more people in their twenties I speak to, the more I realise that everyone is a smidgen lost. No one ~really~ knows what they're doing or who they are. Combine that confusion with a hecka lot of change over the last two months (i.e. new flat, new car, new life), setting aside some all-important 'me time' seemed like the perfect way back to myself. Y'know, to concentrate on who I was, who I am, and who I want to be. But how, you ask? Italy.
It may be corny, but part of me thought if I swanned off to Italy on my tod that I would 'find myself'. That I would discover this whole new me who had always been hidden away somewhere in the background, biding her time until she was ready to come out and play. That I would return to the UK confident in who I am. But here's the thing – I didn't find myself. I wrote a little travel diary whilst I was away and I wanted to share an extract with you folks.
"Did I find myself? No. Because I haven’t found this new person that I’ve not yet met. Instead, I’ve realised that I’m already pretty awesome. That the person I already am is someone I actually want to be. And she’s 100% fine by herself. She’s sassy and confident and full of fire. And she’s also compassionate and caring. Fairly impatient. But all round, she’s a good egg. And I’m happy to be her."
Yes, I still feel somewhat lost. Yes, I'm still none the wiser about what my life has in store for me. I've always been a sucker for thinking about the future and planning my life out to the very last detail, which means uncertainty is one of my biggest fears. Uncertain where I'll be in 6 weeks, 6 months, 6 years. Uncertain where I'll live, who I'll see, what I'll be doing. But do you know what? None of that really matters when you know and – more importantly – like who you are. As long as you do the things that make you happy day-to-day, the rest will follow. And ~that's~ what I'd call finding yourself. So hey, maybe I found myself after all.
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