"The purpose of life is to matter, to count, to stand for something, to have it make some difference that we lived at all."
Once upon a time, I lived for other people. Their feelings, their lives, their beliefs, their needs, all influenced my life. When they hurt, I hurt, when they failed, I felt their pain, and when they were at rock bottom, I was willing to lose myself trying to save them. And then, one day, I realized that while I was shouldering the weight of their world on my shoulders, I was losing myself in the process. And when I finally collapsed under the weight of their trials, they were never the ones there to save me. Over and over again, I faced the same lessons, I save, I mold, I make you the best you, and in the process, I lose a part of my soul. I've said it numerous times and will restate it again and again, God will give you the same test until you learn to pass it. And I had to fail that heaux over and over again before a light a bulb finally came on.
I spent much of my 20s learning and growing and making some of the same mistakes over and over, losing sight of what really mattered. I've always been destined for greatness, and excelling in my passions has always come with ease. I was the kid that never studied and excelled, the young adult that's worst is better than most people's best, and the woman that can conquer the world if I put my mind to it. Not arrogant, just aware of my God given talents. But I've also always been the woman that wears her heart on her sleeves and on more than one occasion, a man has almost been the reason why I allowed myself to wallow in self pity and stop reaching for the stars.
One of the hardest things about blogging about my life is that I'm fairly private. Even my closest friends only know what I choose to tell them. I choose to carry my own baggage in silence because I know what it's like to carry the weight of someone elses. I never want anyone to hurt with me or because of me, and even deeper than that, I never want to be the source of anyone's pity.
However recently, I had the epiphany of all epiphanies. Why do we allow ourselves to worry about things and people that don't really matter? That goes for the men, the day to day nuisances of life, the minor trials, the tribulations.... That goes for it all. If it's not going to matter 10 years from now, why do we allow it to matter today?
I'm not immune from crying. I'm not immune from pain. I'm not immune from hurting, because I am human. But what I am immune from is allowing someone else's BS to dictate my life and make me feel like less of a woman. My purpose in life is so much bigger than any relationship, any stressors associated with a 9-5 job, any drama that is not my own... I'm just out here chasing the reason for it all, and that's the only thing that matters. Keep the main thing, the main thing, and that main thing is greatness.