There was once a girl who had no idea what she would do with her life: no exact ambition, no motivation, lazy, self-hating, in need of attention and affirmation. She was in her early 20s. throughout those years, she would jump from work to work, trying to figure out what was wrong.
Was it the environment? Was it the people? Was it the job? Was it her?
She had no idea. No, she had a lot of ideas. But she had no idea what to do with the ideas.
For years, she would mask her happiness in front of others. Preach about success and motivation and dreams. Inside, her heart would break a little bit because the voice sounds very distant, an echo from the end of a tunnel. A very hallow tunnel with a speck of light from the distance. “Is that me?”, she wonders. No, it wasn’t her. It’s the same voice, but she could not connect with it. That proud voice talking of a brighter future and amazing adventures were in a shell, and it was empty.
The girl lives, floating like a balloon, lost.
A big event arrives in her life, making her realize that she’s capable of things she had always turned her back from. She said she hates cooking, but she did it anyway. She had no choice due to the circumstances. She hated the clean-up, but she was sure, somehow, a bud of interest was there. There’s a bud of change she was willing to take care of. Things were changing.
The girl still lives today. Still lost and without a clear vision of what she wants to be. Sometimes, she would write in her diary about her day, about her woes, her worries, her insecurities, of challenges and changes. Yet, for each end of her writing, she’s a little bit more positive. She’s taking steps to change herself, maybe her life. She’s written goals to do for the year. Heck, she even gave some years a theme. There’s some untested waters in front of her, and they are deep and can drown her whole. But she’s willing to dip her toes, she’s ready to plunge in. She can’t swim, or can she?