Love

If you ask just about anyone what they believe about love, they would probably tell you that there’s nothing better than being loved.

I disagree.

I believe there is nothing better than being the one showering another person with the love I have for them. Perhaps it’s just an individual thing, but I have never felt more joy than when I’m going out of my way to be there for someone, to show them with actions that I love them beyond anything in the world.

Because actions, to me, speak a million times louder than any words ever could. And the love I enjoy giving? Nothing elaborate. Telling that person that I love them, catching them slightly off-guard with a list of things about them that I couldn’t live without, doing small things little getting them things when they can’t do it themselves, be it handing them a water bottle when they are sick or paying for their favorite food when they are well.

Love is not a complicated thing to me. I suppose it is for a lot of people, but if I’m brutally honest? It’s only complicated when we are trying to fit our own desires into a relationship alongside the things we will or even won’t do for that other person. Because in my experience, love is always about sacrificing for that other person; never is it about receiving what we ourselves want.

Someone I deeply respect and admire told me a number of years ago that in order to be ready to commit to the person you love in marriage or another form of permanency, you have to be selfless to put them before yourself. My interpretation of this is to mean that when we put someone before ourselves, they will do the same for us, and thus begins the bond of real and true trust.

When I’m with the person I love the most (haven’t found him yet!), I want to make sure that I instill a sense of trust in our bond, and within him. I want to instill the knowledge and relief that he can rely on me for anything, no matter whether he seriously messed up and doesn’t want to hurt me, or if he needs to talk about something sacred to him that he’s never told anyone. I will never laugh at him. Name calling is not something I know how to do, and quite frankly, I’d rather spend ten years kissing and loving him than the same amount of energy holding a grudge for ten minutes.

Because love is not blind. Love is not self-serving. Love is the way you discover someone, another human being on an intimate level. And in addition to discovering them, love is about discovering yourself, because you will never truly know who you are or what you have in you until you hand over everything to that other person.

That is the essence of life. And that is the definition of love.

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Acceptance

Accepting things can be difficult, if not impossible. Especially when these things you need to accept are some of your greatest fears.

I have always had a slew of fears regarding my physical health, because I was born with three major organs being chronically ill. I’ve been very sick my entire life, but now at 23 years old, the reality sets in. It’s not just my organs that are in danger, but other parts of my body as well that are considered disposable.

I discovered a long time ago that when the body is fighting to provide for a failing organ – let alone three failing organs – that it will give up on what is considered ‘superficial’, such as teeth and finger and toe nails. But there are other things the body will also give up – the senses of sight and hearing.

As I am already aware that my sight has been on a steep decline, it has always been a paralyzing fear of mine to be blind. How would I write? Sketch? See my loved ones? Now it’s a reality that I need to come to terms with – something I had always thought I could avoid. The same can and probably will happen for my hearing. To be deaf is scary enough, but to be deaf and blind at the same time is terrifying. I’m only 23 years old, and I have my entire life ahead of me. Still though, I don’t consider it over.

I don’t see acceptance as weakness; I see it as noble. To accept your deepest fears, allow them to happen and then to keep moving forward is something I am fortunately pretty good at.

It’s not easy to accept these things, and there is certainly no shortage of tears. But if I do end up losing these portions of myself, I know I will gain others in the long run.

And who knows? Maybe they will end up healing. Or…maybe even with these challenges I can be the one in a million that makes it work. A blind painter. A deaf singer. A dancer who has always struggled to move. It has happened before, so who is to say it won’t happen again?

This Industry

I know that this industry is cut-throat. The industry in which I have fought to inhabit. In these hazy days behind these words that stay; I can throw away my inhibitions.

I know that entertainment is like balancing on the top of a knife, stepping so light with the fear of getting sliced. But I don’t have to worry about it, because cuts on me heal faster than they could ever bleed.

I know wanting to be a singer and every other ambition I have is extremely difficult. It might even seem impossible, something that I’ve been told to give up and go for something more ‘practical’. But the thought of knowing my determination for this is factual.

And even in my worst fears, I’ll hold myself dear because I already hear the warnings in my mind. Still, I ignore them because this is truly what I’m born for. I’m born to fight, and I was born to follow these trails.

So, perhaps one day I’ll look back and tell the tale.

These Fears

Words and lies. Fear and fights. I take flight, soaring away from the place of my nightmares. I fear those I’m around, although I love them. I fear I’ll be found, although they wouldn’t want to hurt me.

Fearing for my life in a way that doesn’t make sense, and fearing for myself in a way that sends me to the past. I never did find a way to let go of those memories enough to last. I never found a way to understand what I hear, what I see, and what I feel when all I can do is run from the fear.

Terror fills my limbs, but I choose not to let it control me. Let this be my coping. Allow this to be everything that I need that as these words hit this screen, I shall know that I am safe and sound within my own home, within God’s arms. I am safe and sound with my family and there’s nothing that can hurt me now.

PTSD is a nightmare I wouldn’t wish on anyone, although there are those that pretend to have it for attention. It sickens me, but perhaps I should not be so judgmental, as I myself don’t want to be judged. I’ve been judged enough for my life, for my fears, and for the past that I couldn’t control. It’s not fair to throw that into the hands of a young girl.

Eyes filling with tears, I fill peace fill my heart, and air floods my lungs. I am able to breathe again. Anything I need in order to convince myself that it’s not real, that these fears no longer exist, but live in the past and somehow portray themselves in the present in such a way that I find myself speechless with shock. But I don’t live my life that way, I don’t allow things to knock me down so easily. I am a survivor. I am a fighter, and I find myself drawn to the fight, knowing that I can win.

When my opponent is my own mind, I have to allow a smile to grace my lips because I know that there’s a way that I can deny it its tricks. Some would say that fighting their own mind would be a nightmare…but I find it to be relieving. This enemy I know how to fight. This thing I know how to change.

And as it fades away from my sight, I will find myself in the sky, taking flight.