Sunday, October 5, 2014

Being My Own Hero

Growing up used to mean being able to do what kids can't do; it used to mean that I get an all access pass to every thing adults can do, and it used to sound fun. But boy, was I a naive little girl. How could I never come up with any suspicion for it to be slightly... depressing?


I have always waited for my turn to turn 21 years old. That's why this year, I have done the things that doesn't sound like 'me' for the sake of it. Just because I want to. Just because I feel like I'm legit enough to say that now. Just because I don't feel entitled to explain to anyone for the things I wanna do, because I'm my very own person, and eventually, my own hero. (Because, who else is there to save me?)

Recently, I cut my hair short--like really short, and above picture is me while I'm writing this post, and I've grown it out for about 2 months now, so it used to be a lot shorter). The last time I've worn my hair this short was second grade, and I was 6 years old. And, I don't know. I just feel like chopping it short now, you know?

Also, I dyed my hair reddish brown. Don't ask, just-- yeah, I did. Did I regret it? Well, not as much as loving the fact that I did it. If Coco Chanel said that, a woman who cuts her hair is about to change her life, what's she gonna say about a woman who cuts and dyes her hair? I was gonna start a revolution, really. 

And I'm not gonna lie. It does change my life a little. The thing with change is, no mater how small, it can be good. With my much shorter and lighter hair, I cut my time allocation for getting ready in the morning. And anyway, I was never great with hair. I barely ever brush my hair! Short and straight hair is awesome for someone who never remember the use of hair brush on her vanity. It's so much simpler, and the fact that you can't really put too much make up when your hair is nowhere to cover it really helps. Usually, like every other girl you could see at the mall these days, I would just paint my brows a little and put on some lipstick, and call it a go. I don't always wear red lipstick, mind you, because I work conventional 9-6 corporate job, but I always do put on some lipstick. I believe that, for a female individual, putting on lipstick is a sign that you are pulled together and respecting anyone you're going to meet--unless, of course, you work with kids or other groups of people who would feel intimidated by some colour on your lips.

One of the many secrets that adults never told you is that growing up feels lonely sometimes. Your world would start to seem like it's shrinking--you start having distance with your family, your friends all busy and moving places (forward, actually) and the people you make contacts with are mostly people at work, and they're just... not the same, you know? You're so lucky if you could sit down with your work friends and feel the same way you'd sit down with your old pals from college or school. It's completely mundane and repetitive and it doesn't take long before you realise that all of these routines are necessary evil that you must deal with because you're an adult. Because your parents put you in school and eventually college by actually doing this very thing. By being miserable Monday-Friday, 9-6, and feeling tired on the weekends. Because everyone's done it, and it's your turn.

The problem with me is that I agree too much with Woody Allen; that my only regret is that I'm not someone else. I compare myself with other people way too much that it keeps me awake at night (so when I don't, know this people, it was a good--or tiring day). I cannot stop binge-watching my friends and colleagues on social medias on their new and current endeavours. Most of my friends are graduating college, and everyone seems to be going on a new adventure. This is mine, I know. I don't have to live what they live in, someone in my head keeps saying. But then I keep hurting myself by asking, So is this what I have to live in instead? This?  Is this what I deserve?

It's always been my problem: not knowing what I deserve. It seems to me that I always find it hard to settle with the things that I have, because I always focus on the things that I could have. I'm crazy about the idea of a parallel universe, and maybe that's my fault, too--I keep thinking about the me in the parallel universe; what I am and what I do. I've dealt with insecurities before, but it's not the same. It's like feeling as if I'm not ready to grow up, and it sucks. Because I've been writing about it since the beginning of this year and I still don't ace it. Granted, writing is different from doing it. But that just proves even further the kind of smarty pants that I always am. It doesn't suck, though. I've always been one since I was a kid. But I guess it's more like a restlessness. Feeling like I'm not living my life to the fullest enough, not having enough fun, not achieving enough, not taking chance enough...

If growing up means I have to my own hero, then I certainly still have lots of homework to do. If being my own hero means that I have to be good enough for myself, then I'm still on my way to it. I'm getting there. I promise you, I'll get there. Someday.

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