I’m the kind of person that needs to consult at least 50 other people before making a decision about anything. I don’t mean just about the important stuff like college, career choices or declaring a major, but literally everything. What dress to wear to a party, the kind of dressing I should put on a salad, if I should spend my savings on one thing or continue saving it for another — everything.
My friends from home always joke that I call them every day to ask them to help me manage my life, making fun of me for my inability to do anything without seeking the aid from those around me who moonlight as my life coaches.
Conversely, I often find myself doing the same thing for my friends — sitting up with them late into the night or chatting on the phone for hours while figuring out ways to solve some mess one of them has gotten into or encouraging them to remain hopeful about life after graduation.
I always find myself giving them these long pep talks, telling them to remain upbeat and optimistic, that they are talented and loving and wonderful and deserve nothing but the best. Yet I recently realized I give out all this advice to my friends but never take it for myself.
It is so much easier to tell your best friend that she needs to break up with her loser boyfriend or that she shouldn’t put herself down than to do it yourself. Everyday I find myself telling people how much they deserve or how much they are worth but I always find it so difficult to accept the same things for myself, rattling off these long pep talks to everyone around me and then forgetting them the second I walk out the door.
Granted, I know this is a strange time in my life, being 22 and unsure of where I’m headed, feeling vulnerable and scared and totally clueless. But doesn’t this mean I should listen to my gut more often, that maybe those words I throw around so often to others should start resonating a little more within my own life?
I am finding it’s often useless to try and convince other people of their worth if you often forget it yourself, that words carry less weight and meaning when you cannot put your full conviction behind them.
Friday I received an email from the University telling me that it was time for me to apply for graduation. It caught me off guard — I opened it and immediately closed it when I realized what it was. That sleepy hour in the middle of my Friday afternoon was no time to confront something of the magnitude of ending college.
I know exactly what I would have said to one of my friends if they explained the feelings of loss and fear that shot through them when seeing an email like that. “You have so much time left.” “No one knows what they want to do at this age.” “You’ll figure it out.” I would comfort and reassure them, trying my best to make them believe that everything will be okay, but not listening to myself in the least bit.
So, this from now on is my resolution: to listen to myself, to take time to truly figure out what’s best for me, to not be afraid to stand up for myself and do what I need to do to make myself happy. Perhaps this is me again aimlessly espousing self-help babble once again, but I’d like to think it’s not.
I’d like to think that, as I get older and (hopefully) just a little bit wiser, I’ll come to trust myself a bit more. To listen a little more closely and have the faith necessary to take myself seriously. Maybe this will take years, maybe it will never fully happen, but I’d like to try. Because I really do think everything will be okay.
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