Someone Else

Sometimes when I read my entries, I feel like they’re about someone else. Surely, the girl that’s authoring those entries can’t be me. Surely, that isn’t my life. The voice, my voice, doesn’t feel like a genuine reflection of me at all. And yet, perhaps it’s the most genuine one.

I have a tone in my entries, a tone of someone older, someone wiser, someone who can make mistakes and learn from them, someone who can face the music, someone who’s not afraid to experience life for all its ups and downs, and someone who, at the end of the day, can write sincerely about her experiences. Maybe that’s why you’re reading my blog, because you sense that tone too. It’s comforting, therapeutic almost, to know that there is someone else out there, struggling through life’s tribulations like you do, and making the most of it. Maybe it’s even motivating. Maybe it’s what gives you the strength to take a deep breath and walk into a room full of people with expectations of you. Maybe it’s what gives you the motivation to get out of bed promptly when the rest of the world is still asleep.

That would be nice, wouldn’t it?

There’s always been a lot of truth in my entries – truth that I don’t even recognize or admit to until I start putting pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard in this case) more often than not. And while I like to think of my blog, my life, as a combination of a tragedy, a comedy, and a romance (hence the tagline “notes of a tragic romance-comedy”), it is, at its heart, a coming of age story.

When I read my own blog entries, I can’t help but realize: I have grown so much in the last six years. From the bitter arguments with my parents to the heart-wrenching story of my first love to the betrayals of my close friends, my blog has a record of it all – whether I like it or not. And although my entries may be infused with wisdom and lack the chaos of the moment, they echo my thoughts in hindsight.

They say that your experiences are what shape you, and indeed, this has been true for me. Even though I yearn to fly away from my home nest and go chasing after whatever is at the end of the rainbow, I know I’ve already lived. This blog is evidence of it. The person I am today is evidence of it.

So although these words sound like they’re coming from someone else – someone more wise and more composed than I’ve ever felt – they’re mine. These are my words.