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Standing in front of the mirror I had an internal war over
which skirt to put on for the event. After lives were lost and blood was spilt
over this turmoil; I put on a pair of jeans and called it a day. Walking out
the door I couldn’t shake the feeling of the weight of what I just had to
endure. Life is about the choices we make. Beyond a certain point, be it the
number of times you’ve blown out the candles on your birthday cake or the
number of children you’ve borne and ruined, you realize that the choices that
you make become exponentially significant in shaping your experience and
influence in this world.
Now the thing is life has always been about choices, but
soon enough the choices that you make seem to matter a whole lot more. This
daunting task could make it difficult for you to get out of bed and face a new
day. “What if I ruin my life with one stupid choice today?” could cripple you
for a long time. At the end of the day though making wise choices seems to be
the most important thing we can do with our lives, it is even more crucial to
never forget that even after a bad choice, there is always tomorrow-you have to
keep on living.
I chose my favorite jeans. The ones that you see and you
immediately know I love them. Possibly the holes on both knees - the one above
the right knee and the huge gash lingering ever so dangerously high up my inner
thigh - would be a dead giveaway. If those aren’t, the color which cannot be
placed, named nor perceived by any set of working eyes would quietly whisper to
you that the jeans have seen too many wash days. Better yet the emaciated
material and the strings that were once woven as an intricate sturdy part of
the jean fabric would jump up and down waving their arms high in the air,
begging for someone to please throw them in the trash. I chose wrong. I found
myself hopelessly underdressed.
Sticking to the outskirts of the room, wishing to be
swallowed by the shadows created by the poorly lit hall, I stuffed my face with
anything that passed by me on a tray. I feigned interest in every small talk
topic that anyone kind enough to engage me in did. When I could bear the
torture no longer, I went home and ate some more. A week later, the number on
my scale would cause me to regret yet another decision I made that day.
This brings me to my point. It may seem like small things at
first, you make a bad decision and then you regret it, but then you live to
make another one. However let not the folly of your youth follow you into the
sunset of your life. Most of the time the right choices are the most difficult
ones to make. Take those decisions. What makes you extraordinary is what sets
you apart from the rest. Failing? Everyone can do that. Quitting? Anyone can do
that. It’s surviving failure and still not quitting which sets you apart. It’s
being confronted with your mortality, your eminent end and yet living to see
another day that makes people remember you. Learning from yourself is equally
as important as learning to forgive yourself.
What I learned that day is, at some point, doing (wearing)
what I wanted in order to make me comfortable was not the liberation I needed
to be remembered as someone great. I made a fool of myself. It was going way
out of my comfort zone (enduring the pain of heels and taking the time to shave
my legs, and to iron) that would have rendered me ready to stand in front of a
room full of professors to give my speech. Yes, because that day, looking good
would have given me the confidence I needed to kick serious butt.
Very sincere openness in this text. Sometimes doing what we want can jeopardize or compromise our credibility. Indeed ''let not the folly of our youth follow us into the sunset of our life".
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