For as long as I can remember, I have always tried to be the best version of myself. In all aspects of my life. Perhaps it's thanks to being a Virgo — a perfectionist, or just that I want to continue challenging and pushing myself. But as time went by, and as I grew up, I soon realized the ugly side of being "successful."
Growing up in a Filipino household, I was taught in an intergenerational cycle that I must study hard to get a good job so I can support my younger siblings and relatives. At a young age, that was implemented in my head. My childhood was filled with "I need to grow up so I can understand this better" or "When I grow up maybe I'll have the answers to these questions." But was that actually the case?
At a young age, I was reading books about astrology and dreamt of being a geologist. I tried to understand what Netwon's Laws are and what Einstein's Theory of Relativity meant. I read about the Roman and Greek myths, and I even tried memorizing the periodic table alongside all the US presidents.
Maybe I was hungry for knowledge, but I think it's also because I wanted to be more. I wanted my parents to be proud of me. I wanted my peers to look up to me. I wanted to set the bar; I wanted to be a role model because I never had one. I wanted to be seen because I felt invisible as a minority in this city and even as the only girl in my family. I wanted to prove my worth. Persistently.
But as I grew up, that mindset backflipped. Climbing the social ladder higher and higher, in the process, I had to sacrifice many things. Most importantly, myself. In the process of being a better version of myself, I LOST MYSELF. What was I like? What were my hobbies? What was I afraid of? What made me happy? Who was I? These things I gave away at the expense of being someone my parents could be proud of. Losing myself, I became "an inspiration," "a pioneer," "a leader," "a role model," and people began to see me as someone who's living “the perfect life”. They started putting me on a pedestal. While reality told a different story.
I HAVE my episodes. I break down. I lock myself in my room like a social recluse. I ignore messages and calls. I cry a lot. And there are times I even hate myself. Sometimes I’m JUST surviving through each day. People don't see this ugly side of my life. I do swear. I do skip classes. And I do have hard times. Behind this mask, this facade of a perfect life is someone trying to find herself.
Having moved to Japan and living on my own has allowed me to learn so much more about myself. It has allowed me to step back from the pressure, the expectations, the disappointments and the illusions of who I actually am. At this stage, I'm learning and growing, living, and giving myself the love I deserve.
One's life isn't the entirety of what they post online.
And one's life isn’t an entirety of happy stories.
One’s life is a battle of untouchable imperfections.
Happy Imperfections and Sad Imperfections.
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