Funny how some things about yourself dawn on you only when it’s too late to do something about it: you realize you’re walking on air only after half the world has already seen the kooky grin on your face, you realize you’re in love only after you have already hopelessly fallen, and you realize you’re not quite so pulled together only after you find yourself completely undone by the tiniest of nudges.
Why is this so? I wondered. Is there a point to a belated realization? And then it occurred to me: maybe it’s a chance for us to practice making the most of what we’re dealt. When what is done is done, there’s no way to go but forward. The inflexibility of limited options forces us to see how well we can bend and mold ourselves around, or even just barrel through, the road blocks to our happy ending. Some things you just can’t help, but what you do about them is entirely up to you.
I never realized how precariously perched my composure was until the slightest breath sent me tumbling over the edge. Now I know better. So this is me, dusting myself off and moving forward with as much grace as I could muster. Hello, world.
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