One Where I Talk About Me

I found this definition of the word change, and I quite like it:
“to become different in some particular way, without permanently losing one’s or its former characteristics or essence”

These past few weeks have been full of change for me, and I’ve come to realize that I’m more scared of that word than I thought. Never before have I felt more determined, more scared, more hopeful, more sad or more peaceful. I know that I will be fine, and happy – and that I will feel “normal” again. I’m not really sure when that will happen, but I know it will happen. Different in some particular way, without permanently losing one’s or its former characteristics or essence.

Sometimes we let things that happen to us define who we are, and sometimes that is ok. I can’t, however, let this define who I am. If so, I’ll lose part of myself – the trusting part, the love-you-like-there’s-no-tomorrow part, the eternally optimistic part…and those are some of my best qualities, so I can’t let this be what defines me.

I am a lot of things and certainly not perfect. Since I’m sure you’re wondering about my imperfections now, I’ll list a few: I use way too many commas, my cell phone is never charged, I leave coffee cups everywhere and I can be quite the firecracker when I’m mad. No really, I am pretty scary for a little person. There is nothing about me, however, that is cynical or jaded. And, I’m not going to be.

Endings are not like beginnings, are they? There is always something a bit sad about an ending – even if it’s time.

My mama (god bless her) always reminds me that “this too shall pass” – and it will. That’s the thing about endings. There’s a beginning just around the corner.