Honest truth of my life:
I feel like a fraud. Everyone has this idea of who I am, and I’m exhausted trying to live up to it. I hide behind this mask because it makes me likable, and the truth is, I’m terrified of being anything else. I’m governed by a deep-seated fear of being a disappointment.
I know it’s impossible to please everyone. Depending on the perspective, I’m the quiet one, the joyful one, or the one who ruins a room just by walking into it. I try to tell myself, 'If you don't like me, I don't care,' but it’s a lie. I care so much it’s suffocating.
I’m searching for peace, and I know where it lives. My most peaceful moments were when I was walking with God, but I fell off that ladder, and I think I broke something on the way down. My relationship with Him has become a cycle of 'on and off,' taking the same wrong turns despite knowing the way home. My life is a Ferris wheel—every time I reach the peak, I find myself headed right back down.
I’m tired of the view from the ground. And even though I see 'the easy way out' side-eyeing me every time I hit the bottom floor, I will never take it. I refuse to do anything to harm myself because I will never stop fighting to be the version of me I know I can be. I know that as much as I struggle, there is someone out there who fell off their own ladder and decided to stop climbing. I won't be that person. I might be at my lowest, and the climb might be harder than ever, but I am never going to give up.