Why hello, Cole at 26, how ya doin?
I be like–Eh.
You know how a lot of people say that they don’t regret any of the choices they made in life because if it weren’t for those choices, they won’t be the person that they are today–good or bad, happy or sad, passionate or indifferent. I, on the other hand, am still trying to understand how one cannot want to change any–just even a tiny bit–of their choices made. Either I’m still finding that elusive ‘happy place’ or I’m screwed up in my head somehow that I’m having trouble being ‘happy’. Maybe I’m so used to the drama of life–and a true believer of all things yin-yang–that once I tell myself that I’m happy, my life will go downhill. I’ll hit rockbottom again and undergo the same phase of depression I’ve gone through in the past few years.
To be honest, I don’t even remember how I’m able to rise above my sad moments. I guess I let it run its course then at some point, I get tired of feeling sorry for myself and choose to move on. Not that easy, which is why I don’t want to get caught up with my emotions ever again. The extremes are dangerous points (too happy, too sad) and I long for normal. Somebody who’s okay; keeping her head above water, refusing to sink. Being okay is better than being sad or down all the time. So instead of trying to chase happiness and end up being sad again (yin-yang principle), I’ll settle with okay. Okay is good.
If I could pick one thing that I regret most, I think that would be trying to grow up too fast and planning a life that looked soooo good in my imagination. When I was 16, I thought that by this age, I’m married (no kids yet cos I really can’t see myself being a mom, I mean I have cats for pets cos they are low-maintenance for crying out loud) and one of the following: 1) In Law School; 2) In Med School; or 3) A Lifestyle Magazine Editor with occasional photo-shoots done by moi. Slimming down eventually, driving my own car, maintaining my own apartment, traveling to exotic locations for fun, hmm what else–writing. Yes, writing. Never forget writing. But you see, even at a young age, I was confused. I wanted to do a lot of things all at the same time. It was too late to realize that there’s nothing wrong with being a one-trick pony. You can look at it at being a master (king?) of something versus being a jack of all trades.
I was so obsessed with creating this life that I thought I deserved, I never really grew up. Oh the irony. A friend once told me that I’m basically still a teenager stuck in a 20-something’s body. That I’m immature, entitled, demanding, narcissistic, uninspired/uninspiring. Some friend, huh. But he’s right. It’s not really a surprise that nobody thinks that: 1) I’m relationship-material; 2) I can handle huge tasks when I’m applying for a good post at some organization (CV can’t speak for its own, unfortunately); 3) I’m old enough to decide on the direction I want to pursue. I look the part, but I’m not it.
So yes, I do regret most of my choices (not all, at least this much is true). I wish I was wiser when I was a kid–like my brothers. I envy them, actually. Not in the kind of life they’re having per se, but in their ability to make things happen. I wish I was more realistic. I wish I was more motivated. I wish I discovered what I wanted to do with my life earlier on–a distinct skill, a distinct personality, a distinct life path (like that of a doctor, or a lawyer, or an accountant). I wish I was humble. I wish I was present and did not choose to escape with books/movies/TV dramas. I wish I wasn’t scared all the time. I wish I took risks. Maybe I was happier. I didn’t have the concept of yin-yang. I was making things happen rather than wishing things were different. I’d be posting real stories not regrets…