For all my blessings

All my life I’ve been completely insecure with myself. I was sure that I was the ugliest, stupidest, loneliest little girl. I simply don’t know how to feel good about myself, and everything good calls for validations. Grades (even though they don’t mean anything). Friends (even though they just pretend to be). Achievements (even though they came with a price).

Somehow, I changed. Internally I became so self-sufficient that any forms of bad judgments on me are not only ignorable, they’re wrong. I can prove them wrong, and I can make them regret that wrongdoing. I’m now so strong that the outside world can’t hurt me anymore.

Now I don’t know what made me change. I also don’t know whether this change represents me going forward or backward, but what I do know, I now have something I didn’t have before.

My muses.

Several people whose worlds coincide mine, some in the most random way imaginable. Most of them I wasn’t too impressed with during first encounters. It usually takes several weeks, months, maybe half a year, before I started noticing these beautiful souls. And once that came out, there was no way I could resist being charmed.

How could I not be charmed? These souls, they’re all so open. So serene and sure of their own selves, they do more than believing or rejecting outside world – they affect their world. They have the ability to accept with so much sincerity, and give back with so much passion. They make “strong people” like me wonder why we’re so proud of being strong after all. I’m so proud of being able to resist negativity that it became a significant part of who I am, and yet for these people, negativity do not even exist.

People in this group aren’t necessarily fascinating. Throughout the years I’ve seen all of them being insensitive, tactless, rude, or simply stupid. They’re not the most popular people you’ll see, nor the smartest, nor the most attractive. These people are average, sometimes even below, but this just made me more fascinated – how could I be so deeply enchanted by them, and yet still very much aware of their shortcomings? What is this non-judgmental pure affection bestowed upon them?

That’s when I realized I must have fallen in love with every one of them.

When you spent half your life being so exposed to negativity, and the other half building a wall of defense, you pretty much don’t know what it means to love someone. You can’t even make you like yourself. So when I meet people who magically produce that exhilaration, that pure feeling I never knew I had, the one I had tried to prevent from happening in the first place, it puts me in awe. So much that I don’t want to let go. I want to keep myself exposed to that feeling; I want to keep hanging on to their every move, to watch that magic happen again and again. I want to know if my humble self can rise to their world, I want to be able to show affection so purely too. I want other people to know that I truly love my muses.

And so I’ve come to this blatant, nearly-disturbing point of obsession over them. My face lights up whenever I see them. I made a conscious effort to always be near them. I get jealous over them. Even when they’re not around, I love talking about them. Before this post I wasn’t sure what to call this group of people – then I realized how much they inspire me. Everything I do, write, and say is affected by them. They shape my opinions, contribute to my ideas, defined my spirit, without even realizing it. I had to give them credit. Every time someone gives me a compliment, I can point out a certain person who helped attract that compliment, and 97% of the time these people are those I consider my muses.

But the thing is, I don’t tell them all this. Yeah, I say how much I like them, but I hardly ever explained why. Reason: I don’t want to scare them away. Doesn’t matter how much their personality fascinates me; for them it’s simply the way of living. Living purely is a natural way, and they never intend to affect or fascinate anyone. Having someone looking up at you isn’t necessarily a good thing, because there’s that bond, that expectation to live up to people’s standard. The things with these souls, they’re too free – they disregard expectations (social and personal) because that’s what ties most people down.

So no, I don’t tell them why I like them so much.

I’m forced to interact normally with them, act as if we’re equal human beings, at times even mocking them – because I don’t want them to know how dependent I am on them. Frustrating, and there are times when I can’t help it and blurted something out. It’s all very much pathetic, extreme and incomprehensive.

Now tell me if that’s not love.

A couple of years ago I probably couldn’t even think about love. Now I find myself giving out a disturbingly large amount of love, and being proud of it.

Now tell me if that’s not a blessing.