For a while now I've been contemplating how things which can seem so fantastic and worthy of your jealousy from the outside are inevitably fraught with problems in reality. The perfect relationship, the perfect smile, the perfect grades, the perfect household: dig a little deeper and there's always an issue, always a problem, its never what you expect it to be.
Today I was sitting with some people who were discussing a person who I know, though not very well. I had always assumed from this person's confidence and general demeanour that they were universally liked, breezy, happy, with no problems in the world. From behind my book I listened. The picture was painted of a proud, difficult and easily dis-likable person. Many unknown enemies. Much unhappiness.
I sat there pretending to read "On the Road" and began to think about green monsters with green eyes. It didn't matter whether every thing these people were saying was right or wrong, all that mattered at that moment was that someone I had held up and an untouchable, one of those people I could never be, was in fact me with another name. Maybe somewhere on campus a similar conversation was going on about me, where someone who had assumed my life was perfect was finding out the truth.
The fact is not one of us has a perfect life. Not one of us has nothing they dislike about themselves or that others dislike about them. All that matters is striving to be happy in your own skin and not desperately wanting to slip into someone else's. You might find you preferred your problems.
Today I was sitting with some people who were discussing a person who I know, though not very well. I had always assumed from this person's confidence and general demeanour that they were universally liked, breezy, happy, with no problems in the world. From behind my book I listened. The picture was painted of a proud, difficult and easily dis-likable person. Many unknown enemies. Much unhappiness.
I sat there pretending to read "On the Road" and began to think about green monsters with green eyes. It didn't matter whether every thing these people were saying was right or wrong, all that mattered at that moment was that someone I had held up and an untouchable, one of those people I could never be, was in fact me with another name. Maybe somewhere on campus a similar conversation was going on about me, where someone who had assumed my life was perfect was finding out the truth.
The fact is not one of us has a perfect life. Not one of us has nothing they dislike about themselves or that others dislike about them. All that matters is striving to be happy in your own skin and not desperately wanting to slip into someone else's. You might find you preferred your problems.
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