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It’s kind of funny that the people who are the most into yoga/positve quotes/inspirational tattoos/healthy eating etc.(at least via their social media) are the most miserable/bitchy/standoff ish/unfriendly/cliquey in person. But then again, people probably think that about me too.

"Never accept less than what you know you deserve: In career, in love, in life."

Well, I got tired of waiting for what I deserve to show up. I’m tired of believing in something better that never comes. The Universe had to throw me a bone to let me know I was on my way, or that I was even close. That sign never came. Just heartbreak, just loneliness, just hurting other people in the meantime of me trying to figure it out. No matter how hard I tried to improve, how hard I tried to detach, how hard I worked on my flaws and imperfections. At the end of it all, I am still alone. I am still wrong. Somehow I’m still the bad guy who must be the first and only to say I’m wrong, I’m sorry, to compromise. But maybe - is that what I deserve?

So I’ll try settling on for size. It’s uncomfortable to adjust to. And maybe it’s not settling at all. It’s something that has no name yet. It’s the suffering of seeing the potential in front of me that someone else won’t allow to be, but at least existing in a space of potential gives me hope that maybe everything can still turn out to be what I’ve always dreamed of. And in the meantime I accept things I normally wouldn’t have accepted because I “deserve” better. It’s like unraveling everything I’ve learned and worked so hard to be more of for the last six years. And I can neatly disguise it under the veil of “letting go.”

There have been so many articles in the past several months swarming around the internet about the entitlement generation I’m supposedly a part of. I never completely identified with them because I don’t feel entitled. I feel like I’ve worked hard for everything I have and the things I’ve received above that I am gratefur for. Maybe there are people in my generation who were told how wonderful they are and they could be anything they wanted when they grow up and somehow that left them thinking it would be handed to them on a silver platter. That wasn’t me.

But the story I was sold, and equally false, is how great I am exactly as I am. That I shouldn’t have to change for a guy. That when I find the right one it will be easy. He will make me happy and treat me like a princess or a queen - I deserve that and better not settle for anything less.

This is false. I am not perfect, and the love of my life isn’t either. That makes us real. I’m not always right and I can’t and shouldn’t always get my way. I am not a princess. Sometimes it’s not easy with the one you love, but that’s life. I have this idea of being number one without a shadow of a doubt, but what if that is an unrealistic expectation? What if the truth is he could have really gone with me or someone else and that line isn’t so clear cut black and white? Does that hurt, sure. Does it mean I can’t have the life I want? I hope not. Does it mean I give less of myself? I would be disappointed in myself if I did. Can I have the life of my dreams without it being how I dreamed it would be? How I have always been told it should be?

Something to think about.

"Already Home"

You’ve been trapped in the mold
‘Cause you’ve been running in place
And now you’re casting a shadow
That’s hanging on my face

I see you keeping your distance
But you’re not telling me why
Well, look into the horizon
Instead of here and now tonight

I don’t know what is broken
You act like you don’t belong here at all
If you’ve really lost something
Maybe you should start where you’ve been before

I think you’re already home
I think you’re already home
But you keep running ‘round in circles but you end up
Right back at the eye of the storm, oh oh oh oh

When you see your reflection
Do you recognize yourself
‘Cause every word that you say
I hear another another cry for help

Well if you can’t see it
Why don’t you open your eyes
I’m right here waiting
You don’t have to go far

Because you’re already home
I think you’re already home
You keep running ‘round in circles but you end up
Right back at the eye of the storm, oh oh oh oh

When you’re all fed up being down
When you’re all fed up
You’ll be the last man standing on the battleground
When you’re all fed up being down
You can come home to this town

I think you’re already home
I think you’re already home
You keep running ‘round in circles but you end up
Right back at the eye of the storm, oh oh oh oh

"Parachute"

I don’t tell anyone about the way you hold my hand
I don’t tell anyone about the things that we have planned
I won’t tell anybody, Won’t tell anybody
They wanna push me down, they wanna see you fall down

I won’t tell anybody that you turn the world around
I won’t tell anybody that your voice is my favorite sound
I won’t tell anybody, Won’t tell anybody
They wanna see us fall, they wanna see us fall down

I don’t need a parachute, baby if I’ve got you
Baby if I’ve got you, I don’t need a parachute
You’re gonna catch me, You’re gonna catch if I fall (Down, down, down)

Don’t believe the things you tell yourself so late at night
And, you are your own worst enemy, you’ll never win the fight
Just hold onto me, I’ll hold onto you
It’s you and me up against the world, it’s you and me

I don’t believe anything, don’t trust anyone but me
But I believe you when you say were never gonna fall
Hand behind my neck, arm around my waist
Never let me hit the ground, you’ll never let me crash

I don’t need a parachute, baby if I’ve got you
Baby if I’ve got you, I don’t need a parachute
You’re gonna catch me, You’re gonna catch if I fall (Down, down, down)

I don’t need a parachute, baby if I’ve got you
Baby if I’ve got you, I don’t need a parachute
You’re gonna catch me, You’re gonna catch if I fall (Down, down, down)

I won’t fall out of love, I won’t fall out of
I won’t fall out of love, I won’t fall out of
I won’t fall out of love, I won’t fall out of
I won’t fall out of love, I fall into you

I won’t fall out of love, I won’t fall out of
I won’t fall out of love, I won’t fall out of
I won’t fall out of love, I won’t fall out of
I won’t fall out of love, I fall into you

I don’t need a parachute, baby if I’ve got you
Baby if I’ve got you, I don’t need a parachute
You’re gonna catch me, You’re gonna catch if I fall (Down, down, down)

I don’t need a parachute, baby if I’ve got you
Baby if I’ve got you, I don’t need a parachute
You’re gonna catch me, You’re gonna catch if I fall (Down, down, down)

I don’t need a parachute, baby if I’ve got you
Baby if I’ve got you, I don’t need a parachute
You’re gonna catch me, You’re gonna catch if I fall (Down, down, down)

Why do I feel I need to do more, do something significant, accomplish something, have something to show, achieve, strive, network, try, produce…in order to be enough? Good enough? In order to be worthy? To be worth it?

You hear it all the time…you are enough exactly as you are. Does anyone really believe that? If I go home today and never leave my bed again and let my life waste away, what then? Am I still worthy of love exactly as I am? Am I enough, then? I don’t think so.

This question came through my email from Quora:

I am in my late 20s, and feel I have wasted a lot of time. Is it too late?

And this answer is awesome: 

Too late for what? 

If you slept through your 26th birthday, it’s too late for you to experience that. It’s too late for you to watch “LOST” in its premiere broadcast. (Though, honestly, you didn’t miss much.) It’s too late for you to fight in the Vietnam War. It’s too late for you to go through puberty or attend nursery school. It’s too late for you to learn a second language as proficiently as a native speaker. It’s probably too late for you to be breastfed. 

It’s not too late for you to fall in love. 

It’s not too late for you to have kids.

It’s not too late for you to embark on an exciting career or series of careers. 

It’s not too late for you to read the complete works of Shakespeare; learn how to program computers; learn to dance; travel around the world; go to therapy; become an accomplished cook; sky dive; develop an appreciation for jazz; write a novel; get an advanced degree; save for your old age; read “In Search of Lost Time”; become a Christian, then an atheist, then a Scientologist; break a few bones; learn how to fix a toilet; develop a six-pack …

Honestly, I’m 47, and I’ll say this to you, whippersnapper: you’re a fucking kid, so get over yourself. I’m a fucking kid, too. I’m almost twice your age, and I’m just getting started! My dad is in his 80s, and he wrote two books last year. 

You don’t get to use age as an excuse. Get off your ass!

Also, learn about what economists call “sunk costs.” If I give someone $100 on Monday, and he spends $50 on candy, he’ll probably regret that purchase on Tuesday. In a way, he’ll still think of himself as a guy with $100—half of which is wasted. 

What he really is is a guy with $50, just as he would be if I’d handed him a fifty-dollar bill. A sunk cost from yesterday should not be part of today’s equation. What he should be thinking is this: “What should I do with my $50?”

What you are isn’t a person who has wasted 27 years. You are a person who has X number of years ahead of you. What are you going to do with them?

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