Wednesday, May 22, 2013

Wanna Be, WannaWannaWanna Be

Here is one thing I know, after my hours and days and weeks and MONTHS of thinking about myself, writing, talking, OBSESSING.

All that I struggle with is wrapped up in wanting more than this. What I am. Who I am. I have this intense need to be something better, something different, more impressive and worthwhile and tangible than my current self. I just want, all the time.

And I think I know where some of this want comes from.

It's such a cliche, to constantly strive for the ideals streaming on every screen, flashing on every billboard, printed on every page. But they're ingrained. They're tattooed on my brain, my flesh, my being. My generation has been raised with a ridiculous amount of aspirational messages thrown at us every day, so many I don't even want to look up the statistic 'cause it'll make me depressed and really, what effect will the number have on my point in this post? You get my meaning, don't you?

My need to want comes from everything artificial that I've absorbed for so long that I don't even consciously recognize how ridiculous it all is, because it seems so natural it seems to me.

And thus, I aspire to perfection, always.

I used to want to be famous. You know this, I've mentioned it. I'm unoriginal that way. I wanted to act, to be a movie star, to have my face on the silver screen and plastered on the front of magazines. And all of that came from these messages as well. From puberty on (if not earlier), I wanted to be special and beautiful and sparkle like a princess in a modern day fairy tale. I thought that would be the happiest kind of life possible, to emulate these women whose lives seemed displayed for just that purpose, to make you want.

And it's not simply the physical things they had I wanted. Yes, I aspired to be beautiful and flawless, without fat or scar, toned and thin and healthy and fit. But I also wanted to be funny, and witty, and intelligent, and charismatic, and clumsy in a way that's adorably twee, and bumbling in a way that's charmingly quirky, and talk fast like a Gilmore, be brave like Buffy, irresistible like every romantic comedy lead.  I wanted to be the actresses that played my favorite characters, I wanted to be the characters themselves, I just wanted to be anyone but me.

I never measured up to these ideals. I still don't, and even though I've worked on killing my fantasies and no longer have any hopes or dreams of stardom, there's still that little part of me that wants everything to be different, better, perfect. I constantly fight with myself, catch myself running further ahead to a life I can't live yet, a person I can't be yet, or maybe ever. I always think that more is going to make me happy, but if I'm not happy with what I have now, what makes me think more will do it?

I know that I need to stop thinking I'm on a quest for total perfection. I mean, first of all, it's hilarious that this is my method of being considering I'm the furthest thing from perfect there is---it's like I rebel against my wants and run as far away from the idea of flawlessness as I can, in actuality. Just like I'm doing this week...mmhmm.

I've been striving for balance, for patience, for peace for so long. It's normal to have setbacks, and I've been having one these past two weeks. It's okay. I know what my problem is, and in that identification and self-awareness lies my resolution. 

I've stopped living for living, and have started living for the result again. I'm rushing, craving, wanting, aching to be further along than I am. Just a little bit more and I'll be better, happier. I'll get what I want. If I can just GET THERE. 

But I need to remember one very important thing that I think will solve this little storm of mine.

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