Tags
happiness, liberty, life, love, philosophy, self-help, single, twenty something
I don’t know if I will ever leave Paris, she says again to herself. I am happy here. Maybe I could be happy somewhere else.
But when I’m not happy here, I’m happy to be far far away. Paris is where I learned of my love of travel. Paris is where I figured out that my home is in the adventure. Paris is when my life stopped being about waiting for love and normalcy and realizing it’s all about me, here, this, now, and some conflicts will either fade or force the creation of a new self.
I had thought my desire to own a piece of Paris had faded, and then shifted to the suburbs, and then now I odn’t know.
And then I realized maybe I could go live in Dubai or something and then get paid $$$$$.
And then I realized maybe I can find a way to make the whole travel writer/adventure tourism thing work, maybe?
And then maybe the point is just to find happiness within.
Which might include madmitting you will never be normal and you do have ADD and it’s a real thing and a lot of grown up things are going to be hard, even if you are motivated and not depressed. And you will always feela bit extra and do more to try and cover it up and get depressed that you aren’t perfect or normal and life will be a glorious adventure or nothing at all.
Bu tyeah, I’ll be nearly 30 it’s hard to imagine taking care of a small person and all the routine that would go into it, I know I could do it, but I don’t know if I am willing to sacrifice everything for another person be it mqan or baby, so I”m not sven sure I want or deserve those things.
Although I’m pretty sure men don’t ask themselves that question.
I’ve caleldmyself a feminist my whole life, but I’ve only truly been one recently. I always thought finding the ONe would be a crowning achievement, and if I as on the right track he would find me, or if I was on the wrong track he would save me , or more than likely, he would be on the wrong track and I owuld save him. Bu tyeah, that’s not my current situation.
I am afraid of myself, of my explorer, of my rebel, of my ridiculously sle fassured impulsve charismatic crazy chick. Who can’t bear to live a lie and would nevertheless prefer it to a sterile truth.
The truth is , I am Lara Croft Tomb Raider. I am Diana princess of the Amazons and daughter of Hippoltya. and all of this has been an elaborate ruse by my soub and sometiems not ttso sub comnscious to be something I elt more confortable with and that others owuld find themselves mroe comfortable with.
Maybe I will be that journalist or that whatever who rolls around the world sometimes in iffy place going to share a truth with the world, not worrying if she meets Mr Right in time or has a kid.
Or maybe she does care btutr trusts the universe.
It’s hard, to trust theniverse.
But I do.