Lately, I found myself thinking whether or not I will ever love again, or, better yet, allow myself to fall in love again. I have wondered, for the longest time, what it is that ultimately causes me to dismiss the idea of falling in love and committing in a serious relationship. At first, I thought that maybe I’m bitter, or that I have not move on, or maybe I just haven’t found someone who’s made me want to give it a try again. But it’s not until recently that the answer to my question has dawned on me, presented itself to me in the most obvious form, an innate nature and character in me, that it definitely should not have come off as a surprise: my fear of failure.
Anyone who knows me can very well attest just to how competitive I am, even in the smallest of things. I am not used to failing, and I certainly do not like failing. Now it might come off as being cocky, but I’m just the type of person who likes to be good–or if I’m honest, exceptional–at what I do. And that characteristic translates not just in my workplace, or in school, but seemingly, in my personal relationships as well.
I realized that I have attributed a relationship that did not work as a personal failure–I have put in work, put in effort, invested my time, resources, and most importantly, myself, in something, in someone, and yet, I failed. I have always thought that when I put my mind into something, then I can do it, no matter how difficult it is. But the fact that it did not put a dent on that confidence, and in its place, my fear of failure was instilled, embedded, and over time, nestled and made a niche in me, that is my dismissive nature.
This picture was taken a year ago, when all that confidence was crumbling, yet on the outside, I tried my hardest to appear as if I was unaffected, like I have no care whatsoever, dismissing the very fact that despite my best efforts, I have failed. It’s refreshing to be able to look back on those times and see just how far I’ve come: from a broken spirited girl hiding behind a facade of a seemingly put-together person to the me now, who, I’d like to believe, is actually a little better put-together; the me who’s come to terms with her limitations, failures, inabilities, and believe it or not, some insecurities, and, who hopes that one day, when that fear of failure goes away, I will be able to tell myself, “you did, after all.”
I think it’s been roughly a year now when I (subconciously) made the decision (if that even makes any sense) to start living my life with a more “go with the flow” or “happy go lucky” kind of approach in life, not completely, but almost entirely. And for the most part, it’s been awesome, it’s been fun–not having to think too much ahead, or plan and what not. It’s so cliche, but it felt really good to be “living the life in the moment.” It was a very welcomed change.
But lately I started feeling more like my old self again, particularly with my hobbies and interests, with my dreams and aspirations for the future. And to help me realize those plans and goals, those dreams and aspirations, even though it may seem very trivial and insignificant, I started buying and reading books again, books that are one way or another related to history, or political philosophy. It’s comparable, at least I would like to believe, to taking one more step forward, a step which I hope will help me in my future endeavours.
It’s been a year since I spent an entire summer in BC as part of my co-op program in university, and all I can say is exactly that title: what a year!
It was around this time last year when I was just starting to adapt to my new environment, learning to live on my own (for the first time!), away from my family, friends, and the city I’ve called home. It was both exciting and nerve-wracking: exciting because it’s a completely new experience for me, I have never lived on my own before, let alone in a town 1000 miles away from home; it’s nerve-wracking because I’m supposed to spend three months, my entire summer, in this new place where I know no one, at all.
At first, I thought I was going to just work the entire summer and not have any fun plans at all. Luckily, my family decided to visit me on July long weekend together with a couple other friends of ours. We drove to Vancouver and spent three days just catching up and doing all the touristy things we could do while in the city.
A month later, my two bestfriends, against all odds, drove all the way to Kelowna just to see me and make something happen out of my summer. Viehl, who just got her license three months prior, was brave enough to drive through the windy roads of British Columbia, while Bianca stayed true to her words and kept her promise to visit me, despite going through some very rough times herself at the time.
Looking back, last summer has been pretty rough on all three of us. We were all going through some personal struggles: we all had some baggage we were carrying, we each had a boy we were having issues with, and at the same time we all just wanted a to have a breather, and have some fun, and enjoyment, and have a moment to just live and not think and worry or what not. Like that song says, “girls just want to have fun.” And that summer, we did have fun, despite all the hardship, despite all the difficulty, despite all the troubles. That summer went by so quickly, and before I know it, not only was I sad to leave Osoyoos and the friends I’ve made, but now it’s a year later already and those are all just a bunch of good memories. They are now things of the past, a couple of shared stories that whenever we look back on, we just share a good laugh about it. Through it all, I’m glad I had those two, and I’m grateful to still have them in my life, not just this summer or the next, but forever, for lifetime.