I’m not trying to sound wise and mature just because I turned thirty this year. Y’all have to give me that I can be quite witty at times. But this entry is not for the weak. It’s about me letting go of a friendship I had always sought for as a young girl. The lengths I would go to mould the first friendship I had as a child. Gripping onto it like my life was made from it. This is not a Disney movie. It’s my life, and I’m going to share how I value every friendship even the one that didn’t quite serve me well. They’re all different.
The one friendship I tried to keep which was very uncomfortable for me to keep at the time was one with a crush. There is a very creepy energy within me that doesn't know how to differentiate between a hopeless and a hopeful wish/want. From butterflies in my tummy to the burning desire in my heart to create magic with all the things we were told we couldn't do. To break free from the clutches of know-it-all parents to the expectations of society. I learnt so much, in fact I wanted to fight for this belief system that lacks everywhere now. What is so wrong in believing we could even though (maybe) we can't.
Why is there so much judgement in skill and no attention to the art of expressing? As a baby, if you tasted milk your whole life, how would you know you could love yoghurt for instance. I'm not upset but this friendship had frequent storms that always linked with this same issue at heart. They may happen in different situations, but they all resonate on the same frequency. Not being good enough or perfect in the eyes of the beholder.
Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder. But what if your beholder is blind? And those were the battles and storms this friendship went through and why it was felt so close to me like it was home. Imagine seeking validation from someone who was never capable of truly seeing you to begin with. Whether it’s society, lover, friend, parent or even, yourself. The constant misunderstanding, ghostings and rejections that fuels the fights we would have with ourselves. The way it would fuel anger rage and resentment that sometimes changes us in the process. When we stop seeing one another for who we are, we start losing sight of who we once were.
I am my own child imperfectly me, flawed to meet my people who would go onto these grounds we call Earth. I’m learning to write better to let my emotions come out better than my sentence structure, vocabulary or grammar. I want to heal the parts of me that I truly miss. I want my whole self to be back again. So this is 30, me searching for 5 year old me. That kind little girl who doesn’t judge and only do what is right by her.
Whoever is reading this, I hope you feel a little cringe that this sounds like it’s from a book– ITS NOT. But it could be heavily influenced by them– Who knows? I spent days trying to find people who were sharing the same predicaments as me through social media, movies and songs. It was very hard. I can’t tell you how many times I have been hurt and disappointed, not because of my expectations of them but because I saw it coming and still let hope take charge of my system. And that’s okay, it’s not stupid, it’s time-consuming but I guess I’m finally eating the same old advice I tell people: “Let me learn it the hard way.” If easy’s never going to make it for it then hard it is.
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