My mom called me today with important news.
“I showed one of my professors some of your blog posts and they absolutely loved them.”
I felt a spark fly through me, a smile spreading wide across my face. Lately, more and more people keep contacting me about my little space on the internet and giving me good feedback. One of my friends texted me saying that they love the honest, raw emotions I am writing about and how I am not all about pretty colors and writing “Paris is the best thing to ever happen to me. The end”. I mean, it is the best thing that has happened to me, but a year like this is not all flying colors. Recently, I posted a little poem called Through My Eyes, a poem I have spent a few weeks reviewing. For a while, I did not have the guts to post it. I posted it on my tumblr first and got some good feedback before I took the jump in posting it here. I was shaking when I hit the post button, sending the most raw thing I have ever written out into the world. I have been writing poems and songs since the age of 14, but this one I have to say is one of my favorites ever. I started getting messages about what a great poem it was and how I was so brave to put that out into the world… and feedback like that, in all honesty is such a great feeling.
As mom and I’s conversation went on, we started talking about meanings behind certain posts lately.
“I don’t regret a single one,” I stuttered through the phone.
Not only do I not regret a single post, I don’t regret a single event that caused me to write these.
I have grown up with a lot of resentment and anger. Lately though, it seems to somehow be fading away. I feel at peace.
If you talked to me a year ago about the high school I graduated from, I would have told you that those counselors did not have any clue about their job. I would have been frustrated, most likely gotten teary eye from anger and said that it was the worst school I had ever been to (I have a lot of schools on my resume). This year though, I tell the story and move on. If my high school would not have put me in the situation they put me in when I graduated, the question that lingers in the back of my mind is “would I even be in Paris?” Most likely not.
I don’t regret a single relationship (friend or more) that I have started and ended because they taught me a lot about what I want and what I know I deserve.
You can look back on your past as much as you want. It won’t change. You can think about a million things you should have said in the moment, but you can’t go back. Maybe it would have changed things if you would have acted a certain way, but you didn’t. The best thing about that? You know for next time when something similar occurs.
Writing has been one of the best things that I have come across. It has been the greatest outlet for me. I am not one (and dear god I need to work on this so bad) to say things in the moment. Sometimes I get scared that my actual thoughts will lead to confrontations. I don’t like to fight. Writing has been my way to rant, to explain, to say the things I should have said.
So no, I don’t regret a single post. My writing tends to be what I should have said. It is the reflection of my past, of the things I know I can’t change. Somehow, writing just makes me feel like even though I can’t change an event or a relationship, I can somehow send those last words and move on.