Though truly repetitive, and the constant ear worm, there's something exceptionally poignant about Idina Menzel's "Let It Go." Somehow, releasing years of bent up frustrations and failures into an isolated ice castle captures the essence of spiritial cleansing we all desperately need. As I close the chapter that is my 20's, I can say, without uncertainty. that I have a hard time letting go.
My post high school life has been a myriad of bad decisions, impulsive mistakes, and enough bumps in the road to give a tractor trailer a flat tire. Throughout each trial and tribulation, a piece of my soul aches for the time where there weren't any empty patches requiring stitches. The awkwardness of the situations have long faded, but there's a twinge of everybody's least favorite word; regret.
Sure, it's super motivational for the gymnast on TV who lost her chance to fulfill a life long dream to say she doesn't believe in regrets. She's under scrutiny to say the the right things and the most devastating time in her life. But when the lights fade, the makeup is washed off, and you're sitting in the dark with only the moon as your source of light, regret creeps into your mind.
I have a stupid memory. I say stupid because I can remember the seating pattern of my 5th grade class. The birthday of every person I've ever met. What I wore on the day I got my first speeding ticket. I can tell you facts about your own life you probably don't remember. All those are useful when I cruise on Memory Lane in the center of Nostalgiaville. Unfortunately, I remember every class I failed. Every friend I've lost and why. Things I shouldn't have said, and things I should have said. Without warning a memory flashes vividly thorough my mind and I'm instantly transported to that exact place, exact time, exact mood. Sometimes, I close my eyes, and shake my head to just blot out the memory.
I've often delved into the deep epicenter of my mind to try and justify things so I feel less regretful. I dropped out of the college of my dreams because I had a mental illness flare up that was undiagnosed for 2 years. It's okay that I neglected all my aspirations of what I wanted to be, or who I could be. 6 years later, it's not. There's an ache in my heart that will never subside. The friendships that I lost, the opportunities that I wasted, the things I chose to do instead haunts me.
On this path to emotional stability, certain parameters have to happen in order for me to achieve my ultimate goal. One of which I have to learn to forgive myself. I don't believe in God. I don't believe that this is His timing, and his will. My life is a result of the choices I have made. Said choices, that were already made. Meaning past tense. There is no unmaking them. I did it. So, here's a promise to myself. I am not a perfect specimen. I do not have all the answers. Life is challenging. But, I am a good person. I have a kind soul, and a gentle spirit. My mistakes don't define who I am. My regrets will not alter the plan I have for my life. I promise myself to cut myself a break. Accept the things I cannot, change and have the courage to change the things I can (yes, that's the serenity prayer, still don't believe in God). To life my live and propel myself forward. To sing to the top of my lungs a Disney song, and write positive affirmations. To be a good student, a good friend, and a good person. Because, as Menzel says, "I'm never going back, the past is in the past."
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