This personal blog concept is still a little strange to me, but I’m working with it. I think one of the main things revolving around my mind in the past weeks has been the changes I have to go through. During my past relationship I gave up parts of myself, debateably most of them, in the pursuit of being someone worth of someone elses love. Which, as you might be able to imagine from it being a past relationship, didn’t work out. Not so much because I woke up and realized this wasn’t who I wanted to be, but because it wasn’t working out. I think I ultimately wish I could have woken up like that and thought, this isn’t who I should be, but I didn’t, because I think I had lost touch with myself. Anyway, having in a sense, given up things; my home, my friends, my family, familiarity in a sense, I wonder about many things.
First off, I wonder about my choice of words, “given up”. It seems so harsh and a bit untrue because I still have them. But I also wonder if I harbor a shred of resentment, possibly? (although it hurts a bit to admit this), at giving these things up in the pursuit of love and a future I really want. But I think the choice of words is more about coming to terms with the consequences of change. I think, somewhere I must have heard it, is that change is often spurred by pain. Because if you’re all la-di-da happy, then what incentive do you have to change? If you stay at home all day, what incentive do you have to leave? If you always stay, when will you leave? There is a degree of pain in change. Call it what it is. It is indeed a learning experience, but there are some that are indeed painful. But perhaps, as I hope to find, it is a cathartic cleansing type of pain, a necessity to growth. I’m not saying all growth must be painful, but there is a certain pain to leaving behind what you’ve known, being lonely, isolated, and forced to change.
And as I work through what I’m feeling, as I’m typing, I realize I don’t remember what the second thing was anymore.
I remember now, for a bit I felt that learning German was just another thing I was giving up. Because I write a lot, and read even more so, I felt that being able to communicate eloquently was something that was inherently me. I am proud of it, so “giving up” English, was in a sense, and still is, hard for me. I know you have to work in German and what not to get better, but there has to be a way to balance both. Maybe half and half I guess. I haven’t found it yet, but there has to be a way. Maybe then everything will all feel a bit more manageable.