Sometimes, I wish I could start my life over. Most of the time, I just wish I could have been born as someone else.
I spend too much time wishing. I think it gets in the way of me living. Which is probably exactly why I do it. It’s easier to sit on the sidelines than to be in the middle of it all. It’s easier to dream than to do.
Someday, I’m going to stop doing what’s easier.
It really does seem to come down to whether or not I believe in myself. I don’t, but I’d like to. I don’t, but I’m going to.
There’s no reason I can’t start right now. No reason except my own fears.
The thing is, this idea I have that someday I’m going to drop the fears, the insecurities, the self-loathing, and the doubts, and be transformed into this positively radiant version of me, is just another bit of wishing. The truth is, this is the version of me I get to keep, the one I get to live with, and she is full of fear, doubt, and shame, and she is radiant too. There is no other me. No better me. This is what I have and who I am. What’s left is for me to realize that she is worth loving and worth believing in.