What do I expect from myself? Way too much, as it seems these days. Never have I had expectations concerning myself and my life that overlapped with those bestowed on me by others.
Exceptional grades were not necessary, since you don’t need them for eventually becoming a teacher; a perfect outer appearance was never important to me, since I realized very soon that special features or so-called flaws were always most appealing to me when regarding others; having many friends, going out a lot, making out with boys, being drunk and derived from your memory- all those measurements never measured up to my personal standards.
Why is it then that I tend to torment myself for not living up to my own expectations? These fragile ideas that soon turn into fixed rules to my behavior. In many cases, I cannot even remember how they ended up in my mind. Suddenly it is clear to me that I cannot feel complete and comfortable with myself if I don’t strive to become a writer – whatever that means (Selling? Publishing? Writing itself?). Or that I cannot stay in my home country forever; that I have to live in another country –or better several of them- for a couple of years. That I have to get over past relationships instead of being hurt for years to come.
It is difficult for me to just BE for a while. To just do what I want. I am still so young, but I judge myself as if I was a ninety-year-old woman, looking back on her life and examining if she did not waste any of her days. Shouldn’t you be friends with yourself instead of being your worst critic?
So, for now, I try to slow down a little. Jumping into a pool of books, running, talking and loving for a long time. Let’s see how that turns out…
some inspiration and encouragement in form of a song: