One year ago, exactly this time of the year I was insecure. I wasn’t sure if I was loved, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do, I wasn’t sure if I had my friends would stick with me, I wasn’t sure if I was enough for my dreams. My heart was full of love and motivation, but in such a confused place. The memory of such moment still hurts in my chest, even though my body has learned to manage the bruise.
I was sure to love but I wasn’t sure on how to love myself. And that’s wicked because if you don’t love yourself how can you love someone else? At that time my logic and state of mind was so dazzled that left me speechless when I realized my situation, who was and still am I: an international student, an immigrant in the US, a young woman in love, a biracial and POC, alone, in NYC.
What am I doing here? Why do I feel a lot in a home that it’s not my home? Where is my home? Why do I live, feel, and love like this?
It was a lot. And even the richest goods can fall from the table, especially if it’s brand new.
Two years ago I had my first heartbreak, which pushed me to be creative at my best, but last year I processed a more painful heartbreak: I broke up with myself. I felt disconnected and unbalanced. I wanted to be enough for everybody, love everyone too much, be always there, but I ended up not believing in myself enough. I wanted to end life because I thought that after all I wasn’t worthy to live or be loved or feel good. Then Brazil happened, Puerto Rico, Los Angeles, and this past summer. Since last year, I’ve somehow tried to push myself to believe in myself and go up and up, no matter how many bumps my mind and heart have been through. At the end of the day, it was all about me and how I was perceiving myself, within myself, and how much importance I would give to my health.
I am valid and important to me. And so you to yourself.
In Brazil I cried a lot, but I felt warmth and felt a connection with my roots. Puerto Rico made me believe in love again. Love for myself, for the world, and I found my friends back again, from which I had distanced due to my stubbornness and fear to not be cool or like them enough. Los Angeles taught me that running away from where you don’t want to be can be bold – damn was I brave to go to the West Coast alone with super little money and no car lol – but it ain’t the solution. Nevertheless, I can affirm that traveling is educative and fun and helps you tons. I will never ever ever regret those choices I’ve made, especially because I made them for myself and lived them 100%, with both joys and difficulties.
This summer I had the chance to be with myself. Thanks to my internship at Markets Media and my friends in Queens I had to experience two sides of myself that I never thought they could be lived together – a professional one, where I constantly learn new things everyday, and an artistic one, where my creativity is source of happiness to others.
I miss sharing every bit of info or joy with someone, but thanks to the silence I learned that silence and being at distance is good too. More than good. No matter how much I miss that feeling.
That I am enough, to myself. It’s a necessary energy to have within yourself.
I just finished listening to Lana Del Rey’s new album, Norman Fucking Rockwell. And one of my favourite song is “Fuck it I love you”.
Fuck it Giulia, I love you.
I missed me, Giulia. We are back together.
I am back together. Feels good.
Confusing, but good.
I’m still a college- ewww – student, so iT’s Ok tO bE confused. Ew, here I am overthinking.
But fuck it, I love me. Ew, corny much? Don’t care.