Six months ago, I left my dear friends and family and moved to Los Angeles. I am timezones away and there are *THOUSANDS* of miles in between us.
I’ll never regret my decision to move here, and I feel damn lucky to be here in all honesty. But sometimes being here is hard.
I’ve made some good friends in the past six months, and I know I’ll (hopefully) continue to make more. But this weekend, I didn’t have any plans. Not even the hint of a plan. And as I was on a hike this afternoon, I became overwhelmed with a sense of loneliness. I suddenly wanted nothing more than to run back to Indiana where I feel safe and comfortable. I wanted to be in Indiana where I have friends and family and a sense of familiarity.
I know I had to leave Indiana. I had to get out of there and follow my dream, because that is what life is about. And leaving was the easiest damn thing in the world. But never looking back? Not so easy.
It’s so freaking hard to be alone with myself sometimes. It’s this uncomfortable silence where I’m forced to face the person that I am and be alone with that person. I have to be alone with my thoughts and my feelings and everything that I try to avoid when I’m with others or at work.
I worry all the time about whether or not I’ll ever be “loved” because of my condition— but what I should be worried about right now is whether or not I love myself. Because no matter what, I should always be able to depend on self love above all else.
I feel like a broken record anymore with how much I talk about trying to love myself. But damnit, it is HARD. I don’t know why it’s so hard. But it is.
I feel like we’re engrained to dislike ourselves. And overcoming that is one of the hardest parts of growing up.
There’s no magical moment that happens when I will finally realize that I’m fine the way I am. But slowly, day by day, I will begin to accept myself and know that my flaws are truly the best parts of me.
And day by day, it will get easier to worry about loving myself, instead of the idea of other people loving me.
Because after all, if I can’t love myself…why would anyone else?