Before I start, I want to say thank you to whoever is reading and to those who may read in the future. I would love to be supported on this journey of mine because this took a lot of courage and isn’t going to be easy for me. Friends, teachers, and family have told me to keep on writing, but because of my insecurity and self-doubt I stopped and never thought to start again. This is the first seed I’m sowing in a while. I miss the passion, I miss the excitement, and most of all I miss the therapeutic and healing experience that writing offered me. This blog is to get me writing, thinking, and applying myself again. Lately, I’ve been feeling dormant so it’s about time I erupt and actually produce something. Thank you, even if you’ve only read this far…you read. I hope you will leave this blog with something, but I also hope that you will provide your feedback so that I may grow as a writer. – Destini
Resolution – 1. “a firm decision to do or not to do something.” 2. “the action of solving a problem, dispute, or contentious matter.”
My great grandmother would pick the dandelions in her front yard, wash them, chop them up, and toss the stems into her salad. I would return from school and see her outside stooped over, carefully selecting and inspecting each one. That was one of her many keys to good health and longevity. She would suggest I try and have a taste, but I never did.
Before this year, I never had closure with myself. Years were never like “pages of a novel” to me, but merely dandelions that would flower and then begin to dry up as the years came to a close. I would make hundreds of memories and feel a sea of emotions, but I let the premature seeds of those emotions scatter away in the wind without direction. Convinced they were gone forever, I thought I was spared the rest of the pain, but they were just planting themselves elsewhere in my life. That was the consequence. Those seeds would present themselves in unexpected ways by sabotaging my relationships and confusing me by disguising themselves in insecurity. They grew tall like trees and cast dark shadows onto me, making it hard to see and find my purpose.
I took a lot of things for granted and focused too much on questioning why I’m the way that I am instead of working on what I want to be. I don’t want a short ominous life like my Grandmother’s dandelions. I don’t want to be uprooted by self-hate, washed in doubt, chopped up by my own fear, and consumed by regret. I want to flower to my full potential. I want to accept every part of me and learn to work on them, so when that chapter of my life does dry up, the seeds won’t be premature anymore. Instead, they’ll be packed with wisdom and planted elsewhere where better things will grow.
For days, months even, I would exist in crippling fear. Fear of what people thought of me, fear of my future, and fear of failure. Fear is often rooted in unfamiliarity, and one thing I still don’t completely know yet is myself. The only way to find out was for me to face that fear. That is why the second half of 2016 was a very memorable time for me. Not just because of the many milestones I had (graduating, going away to college, being open with new people), but because I started to break the soil to begin digging deeper into myself. I faced my fears and ventured back into places where I never wanted to go again, I opened old journals sealed with poisoned memories and regrets, I explored my darkest thoughts and I wouldn’t let them subside until I figured out where they really came from. Those are things that have molded me into who I am right now, so I can’t ignore them anymore. Ever since I decided to reflect, I found peace and forgiveness. I forgave myself and that made it so much easier for me to forgive people who unintentionally hurt me. Even though it’s something I’m still working on and am not the best at, I’ve made tremendous progress.
My resolution for this year and the many years to come is to continuously reflect upon myself. I will focus on feeling by letting my emotions and experiences have their way and stop pretending that the “ugly” parts of me and other people don’t exist. I will stop placing everyone I meet on a pedestal, because none of us are perfect. I will bask in my discomfort until I can resolve the problems I have constantly ignored. I will shut my mouth and listen more. In the last few months I tried doing some of this. Once I began accepting the parts of me I wanted no one else to see, I saw myself as human, beautiful and complex in many ways. I loved myself, and I wanted to live. And because I now know what that feels like, I don’t want to try starting on a “clean slate” again. I don’t want to keep closing wounds without cleaning them first. Instead, I want to continue right where I left off, soak up the past like fresh rainwater, and grow from it.