Elevated

It begins with me.

I know how ridiculously new-agey that makes me sound, but it’s true.

I have to let go of past hurts, my stupid abandonment issues, and this lame Catholic guilt. (Ugh. I especially don’t need that, man.)

I want to be that confident chick who doesn’t take anything seriously or personally. I’ve BEEN that chick. Where the hell did that go? I’ve got to stop regretting so much.

Things happen for a reason. People come in your life, and sometimes they leave. That’s just how it rolls. It doesn’t make you a failure. It’s just human interaction and sometimes, incompatibility. Period.

But when I fall, I fall hard, dude. I can’t regret that. Go big or go home, right? 
On one hand, I should keep my guard up, keep my distance, and avoid the inevitability of getting my heart broken. On the other hand, I can’t live my life in constant crisis mode. I can’t be afraid of something great, just because someone else effed it up before.

Moreover, I can’t sabotage my own happiness by clinging to my fears or my own negativity. Yeah, so my childhood was kind of dysfunctional. Whose wasn’t? Christ, enough already. 

I don’t want this anymore. I’m not nine years old anymore. It’s over. I’m better for it, but it’s done. It’s nothing more than valuable lesson, that I don’t need to keep shoving into someone else’s face. Rather, it’s something that stays with me as a reminder to be understanding, patient, caring and loving. Flip that script and make it a positive attribute. Yep. I’m gonna go with that from now on.

Onward.