People Lose Things 

People Lose Things 

People lose things, they just do. It happens throughout the day and throughout our lives without question. Whether that be our phones or wallets or sense of self, on a daily basis, people lose things. 

We’ve all felt our hearts drop when we reach for something in our pockets that isn’t there; it’s like walking up the stairs in the dark and assuming there’s an extra step. As your foot falls so does your stomach and that feeling of loss becomes all too real. It’s like crossing the street and not realising a car is speeding towards you, you stop in the headlights and you can feel your stomach somersault. When you lose it’s the same feeling. 

I’m speaking strictly material of course, but what happens when we lose something more personal? What do we do when we lose something that can’t be replaced or something that doesn’t sit in our pockets? 
People lose things but they also lose people, they lose emotion or respect or even themselves. Waking up and realising you’ve lost yourself gives you the same sense of stomach dropping, heart stopping loss that reaching for the wallet in your pocket does. In the same way reaching for someone that isn’t there any more does. 
When the day arrives that you realise a person is no longer there, you experience the same sense of loss you would have and in some ways you wish it were as easy as losing a phone. There are many factors to losing a person; they can chose to go or they can be taken. You can push them away and cause them to become lost or you yourself can just become lost in everything you were once so sure of, causing other people to lose you. All of a sudden your foot is falling through the dark again, you’re crossing the street, your heart is pounding and you’re left with the realisation that someone just isn’t there. You’ve lost them, you’ve lost it and everything. 
You reach out and they don’t acknowledge you, you fall and they don’t catch you like they used to and they definitely don’t give you the time of day. Losing people is hard but in the same way that your foot falls and reaches ground or the car doesn’t hit you, you’ll feel that sense of relief eventually. 

When you lose yourself, your motive or sense of being it can be harder to consider the reasons why you’re perhaps doing the things you are. Waking up becomes difficult and you wish that you hadn’t because being asleep is easier. When you lose yourself it isn’t as easy as reaching the ground or asking someone to help you find it, no one knows where it’s gone or where you last saw it, it’s just gone. Before you know it it’s difficult to make breakfast or to listen to music or go to work because you’ve just lost that light that everyone talks about when they meet you. 

In the same way that you find your phone after panicking or your feet finally find the ground, so can you. You can find yourself again in little things you do every. You can find yourself in the spontaneous karaoke sessions with your best friend or find yourself in a family meal. You find yourself in everyone that smiles at you whether that be a cashier or a stranger on the street. You can find yourself in the good deeds you do every day or in the family you have around you but you are there. 

By all means lose yourself, but lose yourself in a song or a conversation that you’re passionate about. Lose yourself in a musical or a film that you connect with and don’t be afraid to feel it all. Lose yourself but be ready to pick yourself straight back up and continue on. 

A Letter To Myself

A Letter To Myself

There are many moments in our lives when we stop and think about how a younger version of ourselves would’ve handled the situation. There are also times when you would’ve been asked or would’ve asked ‘what advice would you give sixteen year old you?’ Recently I was awarded the luxury of finding a diary I had written when I was of that age. In a way I read it back and realise that at sixteen, I needed the twenty-one year old me to help them, I find myself reading snippets that I would read from a teenager now and criticise. It makes me question, how many of us would recognise who we were at that age? How many of us can see that in today’s youth and be repelled by it? 
I’ve given this a lot of thought over the week because in a previous post I’ve stated how life simply happens and whilst that’s true, life has already happened. In the year of 2012 I was finishing high school and I thought I knew what was important. For others in that position I’ve received similar answers, but what would you really like to tell teenage you? It’s a universally acknowledged truth that we’re all a million worlds apart from who we were in high school. As I spoke to friends throughout the week I received answers as far and few between as “I would tell myself to never be scared to push your own boundaries because you can’t LIVE life when you never leave your comfort zone, that and crimping your hair is not a good look and it should be left in the past” and simply to “fuck off”. 

The conversations we have with ourselves are probably more important than those we have with others. It’s about giving yourself time to adapt, realise that four years ago you weren’t the same person and four years from now you’ll be unrecognisable to yourself. I know that if I had the opportunity to sit myself down at fifteen I would have more than a few words to say.
Dear me, 

You won’t always feel down or angry, that will all fade in time as long as you let it. Take time for yourself, it’s ok that you don’t have all the answers but you do have some and you just need to take a breather and think for a moment. You’re going to meet people that you couldn’t imagine your life with out, some that you still can’t. In a short while you’ll meet a certain someone that changes everything, this person will give you something to look forward to if a weekend and they’ll create the best adventure of your life. That in itself is worth sticking around for. 

You’re going to be okay. Keep reminding yourself of that and stay positive. It is impossible to live your life on the back foot and that’s something you need to learn sooner rather than later. You’re going to find yourself in a dark place more than once but it’s only going to be temporary. You’ve got this, I promise. 

Sincerely, Me. 

Life Happens 

Life Happens 

Every once in a while, life happens. Now when I define life I sit and think about the physicality of the situation, we live we die we wake up every morning and go to work or run off to school but life happens every day in the most unexpected of places. 
A fiend of mine experienced something over the weekend that was unthinkable for most people, without sounding too serious, life happened. As I prepared myself and dealt with the severity of the situation I couldn’t shake the feeling that wether it was part of my story or not, it was my responsibility. Waking up on Sunday morning with a handful of messages and contacts from people that thought I knew more than I did opened my eyes to the fact that life, albeit unexpected and irrevocable, can happen at any point. As you walk down the street and pass a stranger waiting for a bus, you may not think of it but life is happening to them. They are waiting for a phone call from a doctor, they might be preparing for a wedding or they may even be on their way to attend a funeral, the point is that life happens. It’s unstoppable. 

Life happens at 6 in the morning when you wake up and can’t decide wether or not you want to go into work. Life happens when you get a phone call you wish you didn’t or when you hear the words that create a lump in your throat. When you cry for no reason or when you lose or feel pain. Life happens when the rent is due and you have to miss a payment or when you go to work and navigate a difficult situation. Life happens when you simply have nothing left to give. 

I often sit and wonder what if this life isn’t mine? What if my life was being written by somebody else? Like I’m trapped in their mind and I wasn’t doing stupid shit because I’m sick, but rather they are? When life happens you have to question the reasons why. You ask yourself if I’m being punished, you ask other people if you deserve it but the truth is, and as insensitive as it sounds the majority of the time there is no reason. 

Life happens, it just does and there is nothing you can do about it. But Life also happens when you laugh so hard that you cry and you thank god that you’re surrounded by the people you are. When you have a conversation with a stranger who brightens your day in the cue at Tesco and you repeat the interaction to your friends and family. Life happens when you find a ten pound note in a jacket you haven’t worn in a while or someone notices that you’ve changed your hair. When you hug someone or when you fall in love again. When life happens for a second time, all of the bad stuff melts away for just a moment and it all becomes worth it again. 

There may be nothing you can do to stop it but you can always change the outcome. Smile at strangers, revel in your hobbies and things your passionate about. Make life happen and tackle it head on, you’ll get over it and you’ll be ok. 

Dear Highschool 

Dear Highschool 

There comes a time in our lives when we ditch the school bell and the mandatory classes and think, thank God, high school is finally over. However, once we step into the big wide world, wether that be for higher education or a corporate job behind a desk, I wonder does high school ever really end? 
Most recently I re-entered the world of work, I suffered the mandatory month of unemployment whereby nothing I did had any benefit to my life; I interviewed for multiple positions then finally I got a job. I received the call on a Thursday afternoon and by the Monday I had rejoined the work force. As Monday loomed and I prepared myself for a full day of personal questions and introductions I couldn’t help but feel like I was re-joining school. 

How many times a day do you complete a task and thank Pythagoras for his theorem? How many times a day do you focus on the qualities of a solid or a liquid and question how tightly packed the particles are? Is the mitochondria really the powerhouse of the cell? The answer probably isn’t as much as you’d hoped in the adult world. This is all academic, however, high school taught us all more than we could have ever imagined.

The answer, one I’m sure you’re all familiar with, is no. A band in the late 90’s immortalised this well known fact in a song aptly named “high school never ends” and they were right. Forget for a second that you were forced into double science or an hour of economics a week, forget that perhaps you didn’t learn anything being forced to endure two hours of P.E a week, high school taught you everything you need to know because it never truly ends. 

Being the ‘new kid’ is never fun. The minute you stand in a room full of people who have already established themselves in the community and declare that you are knew and that you’ll be joining their team is the moment you admit you have no idea what you’re doing. 

When you enter the world of work you soon realise that you’ve still got a teacher. Someone that knows more than you and will spend five weeks teaching you everything you need to know to do your job. As you sit in the board room every feeling you ever had of being at school will rush back and you’ll feel fifteen again. This time they’ll ask you to introduce yourself with an important fact; you may still freeze and forget yourself as you did in high school. As you sit there and listen to everyone else you will subconsciously make judgements and Immediately decide who you’ll make friends with. 

Very quickly a chain of command begins to form, people above you or even people below your role that form a working day. As this happens you sit and question yourself; “do i belong here?” 

“Does the senior manager like me?”

“Will I fit in with this team?’

It brings you back to being the ‘new kid’ at school. As you introduce yourself there are plenty of factors that could make your team not accept you. You’re selling yourself to the popular kids all over again: you’re avoiding having a ‘mean girls’ moment and eating your lunch in a rest room. 

Without us even realising it, high school allowed us to navigate social situations with people we couldn’t stand. At the age of sixteen we are conditioned to have our petty personal grievances hold higher consequences. Pick your battles, know when it’s right to fight and when it’s right to go to bed. In the world of work there will always be someone you don’t agree with. The skill comes from knowing when to speak up or allow the foolishness to happen. You move your way through the day and suddenly realise that everyone has formed a pack; like wild animals at the watering hole. The pack is what divides you and your group of friends from the rest. 

Detention’ seems like a foreign concept passed the age of eighteen however it teaches us that if you don’t complete what is expected of you then you need to take the time to amend it. 

Regardless of wether you’re sat in the training room or your own office; rumours are still currency. The person who knows the most owns the most, wether you buy into the culture or not, he who screams the loudest shall always get what he wants: basically if you’re willing to tantrum like a school child you’ll get treated as such. Graduation will not change this. 

With all this in mind, I have this to say: 

Dear high school, 

Thank you for teaching me resilience. Thank you for teaching me that certain friendships were not meant to last and that people we knew when we were fifteen are different people now and that it’s all apart of growing up. Thank you for teaching me that the material possessions I pride myself on mean nothing in the working world, no one cares that I own 387 DVDs and certainly no one is bothered if I spend my weekend listening Celine Dione. Thank you for teaching me that it’s ok to be quiet, that every argument isn’t worth it and that sometimes it’s ok to just keep yourself to yourself and stay silent for a minute or two. 

Sometimes it’s ok to be clueless, there will always be someone to respect your honesty and help you with your journey. The journey from graduation to the grave is simply a case of history repeating itself because it’s simple: high school never ends. 

Doing The Right Thing 

Doing The Right Thing 

There comes a time in our lives when we’re all faced with choices. The proverbial fork in the road, two roads diverged in a yellow wood and all that. The question comes when we have to decide, do we take the road less travelled or do we simply do the right thing? Wether that be the right thing for ourselves or for the immediate world around us. I used to be with someone who would always, no matter what I was feeling, respond “just do the right thing”. I never truly understood what he meant by that, until now. I would often wonder, why can’t ‘what’s right’ be handed to me? Why should I have to figure that out for myself? But sometimes “the right thing” isn’t a simple answer, sometimes it’s already there and you just need to be brave enough to realise it. 
For example, many take New Year’s Eve with a great seriousness, and so it should be. The minute the clock strikes twelve you have an entirely new 365 days to ignore your resolutions and another 365 opportunities to do the right thing. I, like many,spent my New Years with friends in a public space where the new year could be ushered in with loud music and copious amounts of alcohol, this is not the issue. 
This particular night I was invited to a New Years event by my friend, Lilly, who had arranged a night in some night club downtown with her boyfriend and another couple and I was the fifth wheel. This didn’t bother me as anyone who knows me knows that I don’t find it difficult to speak to people nor do I find it hard to make friends. So the night draws in around seven in the evening and as I made my way to Lilly’s’ flat, vodka in hand, I prepared myself for what I thought would be a straight forward evening of laughs and drinks. I stepped off of the bus and made my way up the stairs of the dimly lit tower block in southwest London, being conscious of the neighbours, she greeted me with a hug and a kiss as friends would and we went inside to begin preparing ourselves for the night ahead. She poured me a drink and as the red cup began to fill up there was a knock at the door and she immediately went to answer it. 
Let me preface this by saying Lilly is the sort of person who’s company alone would make you smile, to this day I’m not sure how she does it. There’s a light behind her eyes, a never ending positivity that’s like that of a child’s however her sense of humour matched that of someone who’s lived many lives. She always seemed sure of herself, sure of the people around her and even if it might have been an act, it was pulled off perfectly. So you can imagine my surprise when I met him. 
When she came back, as expected I stood up and introduced myself to her boyfriend, shaking his hand, making small talk and instantly sitting back down. His name was Joe and I somehow found it difficult to talk to him. He was fairly tall, had a masculine build but looked like a miniaturised wolverine. I mentioned this as a joke and we all laughed. When the night had drawn on and we finally left the club, I couldn’t shake an uneasy feeling that something was wrong; wether it was the way he spoke or the way we couldn’t speak I was unsure. 
As I would make self depreciating joke after joke (roping Lilly and our other friends into it) I would catch his eyes, staring at me. Like I had offended him personally but oddly enough it had nothing to do with him. The clock struck 9.00pm and we made the decision to travel on to the bar in Soho, after popping a bottle of presecco needless to say we were all fairly excited. As we stepped onto the street to catch a train I lit a cigarette and continued to walk; again I caught his gaze. As Lilly and I stood on the street whilst the others went inside to get tickets she turned to me “Joe hates smoking” we laughed it off. Each to their own, I thought as I took a drag and stubbed it out. 
As the night drew on, everything was fairly normal, we danced and laughed and drank a reasonable amount. It was a night that was just for us, we were starting the year on a high. There was one moment that changed things for me. Joe and I were on the dance floor and Lilly had gone to the bathroom with our other friend. Her boyfriend shuffled towards me and I asked if he’d like another drink, he took me up on my offer and ordered his girlfriend one as well. However, when I turned to Joe to ask if he or Lilly wanted another, he snapped “no thank you, she’s had enough” and I stared silent for a moment. 
 I shook this off and just assumed he was just ‘that guy’. Moments later he started asking where Lilly was, complaining that she’d been in the bathroom for too long. Like a dog with a bone he wouldn’t let it go he just kept persisting that he was worried about her. The truth is, she’d been less than 10 minutes and I couldn’t bare the thought of someone like Lilly being under the thumb of this one person, especially on New Year’s Eve. 

At that point I started thinking about ‘the right thing’, normally I’d sit by and not say anything, perhaps allow him to continue to speak the way he did. I turned to him, softly explaining that (and I quote) “she’s a grown woman, she’s gone to the bathroom she’ll be back soon, chill out” I smiled. I remember turning away and dancing to myself. 
When she came back we continued as nothing had happened, he hadn’t let her out of his sight all night and every time he spoke to her I saw that light behind her eyes dull down. She would stop dancing or singing and even stop smiling with just one word from him. It was heartbreaking to see someone that I revered as being a positive influence to me personally be held down so easily. At that point I found a way to get us alone, this wasn’t easy as you can imagine, but it was necessary. We stood outside in the smoking area and before I could make my point he made it for me by texting her four times in less than five minutes. 
At that point the right thing presented itself to me, I knew that I had to say something, explain what I saw regardless of the outcome to our own relationship. I have no doubt that she loved Joe and I was prepared for her to tell me to piss off and that I don’t know anything but after I said it, she saw it. The right thing was right for both of us, for me to say and for her to hear. 
My point is, doing the right thing may not always be obvious at first. The right thing for Lilly since then was to break it off with Joe and move back home. She’s since started seeing someone who, from what I hear, values her happiness more than his own and I couldn’t have wanted it to end better. You’re always going to be faced with choices, if I hadn’t said anything that night she might still be in an emotionally abusive relationship but I made the choice to do what I felt was the right thing. It’s very easy to sit and say ‘nothing will change so it doesn’t matter what I do’ but until you make the change you’ll never know the outcome. 
Help the pensioner across the street, hold the bus for someone that’s running late and let someone with only one item jump ahead you at the grocery store. Check in on your mother once you’ve moved out, tell your friends your honest opinions because even if it hurts them you should have their best interests at heart and it shouldn’t matter. Give yourself time, don’t rush into things because ‘the right thing’ won’t come to you over night. Making the right choice is hard and it’s everyday but it’s worth it to just be more honest with yourself and everyone around you. 
What have you got to lose? 

A Seperate Perspective 

A Seperate Perspective 

This week marks a special one in the life of one of my closest friends, this weekend marked a year of blogging and I was privileged enough to be asked to write something for her. In fact it was what inspired me to start my own, she asked me to write with the prompt of ‘perspective’. Below is my excerpt, something I’m proud of and I can only hope I did her justice. 

You can find the original here: https://staybliss.blog/2017/02/25/perspectives-on-a-birthday/

And her blog: https://staybliss.blog

Enjoy! 
Some say one mans trash is another mans treasure. That trash, however, may look like treasure at any given moment to any given person. The life you hold so adamantly as trash is someone else’s pure gold, the situation you find yourself in that appears to be a dump on the outside could very well be your idea of heaven. As always it’s about the vantage point you look down on it from. 

For example, the city of London for some is a dream and for others it’s a living nightmare. 

Every morning is the same. A collection of measured time, from the moment the abusive and irritating alarm sounds, measured time that seems to get shorter with each passing day. What used to be a 6.30am start turns into a 7.45am rush for the train, what used to be 25 minutes for breakfast and a shower turns into a biscuit and a spray of the nearest available perfume. To everyone on the outside I am one of them now, I am just another commuter that has to push and force myself on to the train before I end up an hour late for the job I don’t actually enjoy. This is of course amplified by the fact that I will undoubtedly end up with a canary wharf wannabe’s armpit in my face for the majority of the journey and apparently they never have time for a shower either. I can always feel myself holding a chesty cough in the back of my throat but it forces its way from my body and I feel like now more than ever people’s eyes are on me. 

Regardless of how invisible I am on the morning commute I can’t help but feel an unwarranted pressure to carry myself with confidence. It’s almost as if every other person in the world is looking at me and if I don’t have every inch of confidence on my face then its game over. Life is a game of retail. We are constantly selling ourselves, consciously or not. When you start telling the story of how your weekend went to a relative, when you put your make up on in the morning, when you crawl out of bed at three in the afternoon and wonder into the streets with not a care in the world you are selling yourself to everyone else. You want people to believe the stories and invest their time in you and give you the satisfaction of being noticed. As we’ve all experience the sales pitch isn’t necessarily the product you are getting. Wether you care to admit it or not, that’s what’s happening every moment of every day. We all do it and we are all guilty of doing it to other people.

I like to play a game on the daily commute. I call it; guess the sales pitch, where by I take a look at the general public and see what they’re portraying versus what they are, for example:

Tall guy, dark hair, well dressed and carrying a brown leather suitcase. That usually translates as a confident business man. 

1A) in actual fact he’s a middle aged prick with a long list of ex-lovers and probably has a fetish for dominatrix’s 

A blonde, muscular ripped jean wearing beard with his hand grabbing at every arse it sees

2A) translates as closet homosexual

2B) probably also has a fetish for dominatrix’s 

And well, you get the picture. I can’t help but wonder how many people have done the same with me as I push my way through the mass of workers. How many people notice me at all? The underground becomes such a beautiful place in the morning; it turns into a clockwork beehive. Every individual face blurs into one rushing mass all as eager to jump on the train that will have another one arrive in less than a minute. This mass has no concept of time other than the fact that they’ll be late if they don’t squeeze themselves on to the train that’s about to close its doors potentially losing an arm or every shred of dignity for that morning. 

So with that in mind, the world seems so much smaller. 

In such a small world it’s surprisingly easy to get lost and in a large crowd of people it’s surprisingly easy to feel alone and with all of these large crowds in such a small world it’s so very easy to find that something is missing. There’s a large gap inside of every one of the worker bees in the clockwork hive. These gaps then form their own large spaces that need to be filled; everybody knows that. But what if these gaps can’t be filled? What if these busy worker bees in the large crowds of the small worlds can’t fill those large gaps? Do they wonder empty? Do they live with it? Of course the two aren’t mutually exclusive, it’s perfectly possible to wonder empty and live always having something missing. The real question is; how long can this go on? Suddenly it all makes sense, every irrational argument you’ve had with a lover or every time you’ve had more to drink than you should have or every time you’ve ran for that train that you know you can’t make; it’s all to fill the gap. To distract ourselves and to keep it at bay, just for a little while. 

Sometimes all you need to do is to take a step back and look at the situation with a fresh sense of perspective. Be brave enough to be honest and be honest enough to admit the reality of the situation. I shall preface this by saying that in the last two years I have been forced to change my outlook on life. From the outside (and in) it looked like I had a pretty sweet existence but that’s the thing, when you look at something through rose tinted glasses, all the red flags just look like flags. I have removed the rose tinted glasses and faced up to multiple truths, looking back only just now seeing the parade of flags that were waving more than I care to admit. 

The hive is always buzzing. Mounded into a mass that never seems to stop, but it does. It always stops, catering to people who are wearing clothes to get them noticed, people that are too cool to care. They wander through the tunnels pretending not to care whilst secretly thinking about every single person that is looking at them, wether that’s in awe or disdain. They give there life’s to this persona that only strangers see. And then there are those who don’t seem to care, the individuals that don a tracksuit from the runways of Jeremy Kyle, the ones who seem not to notice you looking. They notice. They know you’re looking towards them, wether it’s with judgement or pity, I smile. 

In the noise I would find a moment of silence, a moment of clarity. For that short, sweet moment everything would be quiet and I would feel like everything was going to be okay. I was living for those moments, day after day hoping for that feeling of okay. 

There comes a moment, a short second, where everything you once saw or believed is shaken. Your attention is pulled into focus and forced to stare life directly in the face with a whole new perspective. It may be a small change, it might be the kick in the crotch that you need to stop holding yourself back. Whatever it is, it’s important that it happens. You will find clarity in the strangest of places. You won’t be looking for it but it will come to you when you’re travelling alone on a train at midnight or walking through a crowded street on a Saturday. It’ll hit you, the same way the noise does. As easily as the confusion cascaded upon you, it will subside and everything will be quiet.

You might be nervous to apply for a job or an apartment for yourself, it might be that a jacket you’re stopping yourself from buying because you don’t think it’ll suit you. You could well be in a relationship that isn’t going anywhere or feel like you’re wasting your time in a career that isn’t really for you. It’s not until you take that much needed, very large, step back and look at it from every angle. Your friends will have told you their opinion, your parents will give you the classic ‘do whatever’s best for you’ and it’s all true. Sooner or later however, you realise that no view point matters apart from your own. Give yourself a break, hold your own life as treasure regardless of where you find yourself. Take that moment and run with it. As always, it’s a matter of perspective. 

Forgiveness 

Forgiveness 

Every once in a while somebody will come along and betray your trust in one way or another. This isn’t always as severe as it sounds but it will happen and as we grow up we’ve likely been told to ‘forgive and forget’. In fact it happens so often that it almost becomes an instinct deciding which one you’ll choose fitting the situation; will you forgive, forget or both? As a toddler you don’t get exactly what you asked for for Christmas, forget. A best friend cancels on you last minute leaving you in an empty restaurant, forgive. Barista doesn’t get your coffee right, both. But what about the times when it’s neither?
What about the times you simply refuse and never allow that person back? There are always times when someone may betray you or hurt you so much that you decide to do neither. Instead what you do is decide to cut them out, and you never forgive and you never forget. Personally, looking back, I have never experienced such a scenario where I wasn’t able to forgive someone and I hope I never do. For someone to be that hurt by another person that they can’t look passed it and realise that whatever they did was for a specific reason or that it perhaps was right for them at the time must be tough. This choice is universally acknowledged as unhealthy and I agree. Let me preface this by saying that I completely understand that certain circumstances may make you want to run for the hills and never turn back to this one person or situation. For example, your mother led you to believe that the man raising you was your father, when in fact it was someone she knew in high school. Your partner of multiple years cheated on you multiple times. The love of your life may not have stuck by you and left. These are all very valid reasons to wash your hands of someone and never give them a second thought. However, it’s not reasonable to allow yourself to be miserable or to hold on to anger for someone that you once loved. People make mistakes, you don’t have to agree with them but you do have to eventually understand that people are always just doing what felt right to them at the time, otherwise they wouldn’t have been able to do it. 

I wonder; what if the person we need to truly learn to ‘forgive and forget’ is ourselves? I’ve found that the majority of the time the hardest person to forgive is yourself. I mentioned before that every once in a while someone comes along and betrays your trust but that’s a two sided coin that flips all too often. What about every person you have ever hurt intentionally or not? I know I’ve done things previously, to people I truly love that bare down on my conscience day after day and I’m fairly confident in saying that every body, even if it’s a small example, has experienced the same. 

Maybe you didn’t hold the door for a woman holding a child, maybe you’re the one that kept a secret from a loved one, continually letting them down or maybe you’re the one that left in a hurry without an explanation. Sometimes there is nothing harder to deal with than an overpowering guilt knowing you’ve hurt someone you love, but holding on to that pain and directing it towards yourself only makes it worse. Sometimes there’s an emptiness to your circumstances so you fill it with regret but that can’t go on forever. 

You will never be anything to anyone until you are something to yourself. Be confident in yourself to admit that you made a mistake, apologise for it and allow yourself to move on. Be mature enough to realise that changing yourself isn’t weak, it’s necessary.