The Collector's Agenda
I am a collector.
While some people collect knick knacks and model car hobbies,
I collect the intangible things.
I collect people and the moments they leave me with.
I collect beautiful memories along with the scars they leave in their wake.
I collect streams of tears that pool just underneath the surface, fighting to break free.
I collect moments of self doubt and insecurity.
And amongst all the pain, I collect the smiles other people give me, and do my best to remember to wear them.
What I’ve come to realize in my mere 24 years of living, is that every day we’re becoming different people.
Often times I find myself living in the shadows of what my past has given me, and forget what I was looking forward to tomorrow.
Over the past year I have changed in more ways than I can count.
I have collected many moments and people.
Some have left a bitter taste in my mouth, while others have become my safe harbor.
I do my best to live by the principle that “God has a plan”, but some days that comes harder than others.
There’s this nasty habit we often possess, that makes us look to other people for our identity.
Like if we could see ourselves through their eyes, we’d finally understand who we are.
There were moments this year where I was convinced that I needed people’s approval.
I tried to find hope through the vision of other people and the character they believed me to be.
Moments where I met a guy and I was slowly discovering who he perceived me to be, ever day.
And I never could decide who that was.
I clung to what I thought I knew; the idea that someday I’d possess the good qualities of a girl he’d really want to know…..or continue to know.
I locked myself in on our conversations, replaying words in my head, splitting them into categories, dissecting every sentence.
I became obsessed with our language and the feelings I had slowly learned to express.
A language that died when things no longer worked in my favor.
And I’ve searched for ways to be grateful.
I turned to God over and over again, praying for clarity and closure, hoping there was a point to everything I’d gained and then lost.
Some days it makes perfect sense, others I wish it had all been different.
I wish I’d chosen a different career or a different friend to confide in.
I wish I hadn’t opened myself up, only to have my secrets floating in the pockets of a stranger.
While some people collect knick knacks and model car hobbies,
I collect the intangible things.
I collect people and the moments they leave me with.
I collect beautiful memories along with the scars they leave in their wake.
I collect streams of tears that pool just underneath the surface, fighting to break free.
I collect moments of self doubt and insecurity.
And amongst all the pain, I collect the smiles other people give me, and do my best to remember to wear them.
What I’ve come to realize in my mere 24 years of living, is that every day we’re becoming different people.
Often times I find myself living in the shadows of what my past has given me, and forget what I was looking forward to tomorrow.
Over the past year I have changed in more ways than I can count.
I have collected many moments and people.
Some have left a bitter taste in my mouth, while others have become my safe harbor.
I do my best to live by the principle that “God has a plan”, but some days that comes harder than others.
There’s this nasty habit we often possess, that makes us look to other people for our identity.
Like if we could see ourselves through their eyes, we’d finally understand who we are.
There were moments this year where I was convinced that I needed people’s approval.
I tried to find hope through the vision of other people and the character they believed me to be.
Moments where I met a guy and I was slowly discovering who he perceived me to be, ever day.
And I never could decide who that was.
I clung to what I thought I knew; the idea that someday I’d possess the good qualities of a girl he’d really want to know…..or continue to know.
I locked myself in on our conversations, replaying words in my head, splitting them into categories, dissecting every sentence.
I became obsessed with our language and the feelings I had slowly learned to express.
A language that died when things no longer worked in my favor.
And I’ve searched for ways to be grateful.
I turned to God over and over again, praying for clarity and closure, hoping there was a point to everything I’d gained and then lost.
Some days it makes perfect sense, others I wish it had all been different.
I wish I’d chosen a different career or a different friend to confide in.
I wish I hadn’t opened myself up, only to have my secrets floating in the pockets of a stranger.
But where would I be
without the love and loss of such things?
Would I have enrolled in Grad school, without the words of a friend reminding me how much I wanted it?
Would I have truly discovered myself without a career that changed my perception of the world?
It’s really hard to look back on the year without being sad for the things that haven’t made it to this one.
But it would be a shame not to be grateful and smile at what those things have given me.
I met a guy a few weeks ago and it felt strange how easy it was to connect.
How his words infiltrated my thoughts the way another man’s used to.
But I didn’t panic, like I’ve grown to do since feeling the hurt some people can cause.
Instead, I welcomed it with ease.
In fact, it was my general confidence that evidently brought that boy to a ball of nerves.
And what I saw in him was myself, 2 years ago.
I realize now how much I have grown and how much I have gained over the last 2 years.
A job that changed my outlook, a guy who matured me, great friends who have made the hard days bearable.
I don’t know what 2015 holds.
But I know that I wouldn’t have gotten here without the rough days of last year.
I wouldn’t have enrolled in school for Gender Studies, without some feminist guy letting me know it won’t leave me outcast and alone.
I wouldn’t have switched jobs without friends reminding me how strong I am.
And I wouldn’t be brave enough to learn to feel the things that hurt the most without my best friend being right there for the days when it comes crashing down again.
For a while, all of these things made me fearful.
I was sure Feminist studies would leave me single forever, but now I can name at least 10 men who get it.
I was scared that Grad school was a dumb idea and that I’d never make it through, but I have a boss and coworkers and friends who have supported all of my decisions all along the way.
And I was scared that dating and being “real” with people would leave me too vulnerable and would hurt too much a second time, but I’ve only proven to be more confident and sure of myself.
I am a collector of many things, and hope for the future is the biggest one today.
Would I have enrolled in Grad school, without the words of a friend reminding me how much I wanted it?
Would I have truly discovered myself without a career that changed my perception of the world?
It’s really hard to look back on the year without being sad for the things that haven’t made it to this one.
But it would be a shame not to be grateful and smile at what those things have given me.
I met a guy a few weeks ago and it felt strange how easy it was to connect.
How his words infiltrated my thoughts the way another man’s used to.
But I didn’t panic, like I’ve grown to do since feeling the hurt some people can cause.
Instead, I welcomed it with ease.
In fact, it was my general confidence that evidently brought that boy to a ball of nerves.
And what I saw in him was myself, 2 years ago.
I realize now how much I have grown and how much I have gained over the last 2 years.
A job that changed my outlook, a guy who matured me, great friends who have made the hard days bearable.
I don’t know what 2015 holds.
But I know that I wouldn’t have gotten here without the rough days of last year.
I wouldn’t have enrolled in school for Gender Studies, without some feminist guy letting me know it won’t leave me outcast and alone.
I wouldn’t have switched jobs without friends reminding me how strong I am.
And I wouldn’t be brave enough to learn to feel the things that hurt the most without my best friend being right there for the days when it comes crashing down again.
For a while, all of these things made me fearful.
I was sure Feminist studies would leave me single forever, but now I can name at least 10 men who get it.
I was scared that Grad school was a dumb idea and that I’d never make it through, but I have a boss and coworkers and friends who have supported all of my decisions all along the way.
And I was scared that dating and being “real” with people would leave me too vulnerable and would hurt too much a second time, but I’ve only proven to be more confident and sure of myself.
I am a collector of many things, and hope for the future is the biggest one today.
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