Reflections of a Nonconformist

Whenever I look back at my past and think about how the things I used to do then made me feel and the state in which I am at now, I can’t help but wonder: what the hell happened?

I mean, before I used to have a pretty comfortable existence. I had an affluent lifestyle, a big group of “friends”, a stable relationship and a promising career. By all means, I had everything I needed to claim I was doing good in life and that, by extension, meant I had to be happy. But I wasn’t. And I constantly blamed myself for it, because I felt that I wasn’t appreciating what I had. Especially in this world, where very few can say they have the privileges I enjoyed.

So what was going on? Why was I so miserable in spite of my seemingly splendid life? Well… If there’s something I learnt after analysing this past stage is that outside things don’t always reflect the internal vision we have of ourselves. Sure, we can fool around with things that to everybody else appear as means to happiness. But that doesn’t mean we should follow suit with the ideals of the world.

All of us, humans, are so diverse and multifaceted. We don’t need to get ourselves encapsulated within the same try and tested patterns that get thrown our way. We shouldn’t conform to what is agreed as being good; opting instead to find our own sense of goodness. Yet, doing so is hard. I know this first-hand. I was there, after all, just following the path that was laid for me and hating myself along every step of the way for not being able to properly rejoice in it.

I allowed four years of my life to pass me by in such a way. Hoping that at some point I’d get to find the peace I had been craving for. But the moment never showed up. All I could do was to keep on suffering, hitting my lowest lows without ever getting to acknowledge if I ever had any highest highs. And as desilusioned as I was in life, I only wanted it to end.

Around the time of my birthday, I decided it was time to finally let go. So tying up the rope around my neck, I jumped into oblivion. Except that… My attempt failed. And soon I was in an ambulance, gasping for air and fighting for life.

I survived.

And, for many reasons, that was the best wake up call I could have received.

I decided that from then on I would make major changes to my life. So I sold my fancy dresses and jewellery, and moved closer to the countryside. All of my acquaintances felt shocked by such a sudden change, but I knew it was necessary. The vanity of the life I was leading perturbed me and all I wanted was to ease my ache for serenity.

Naturally, those who disapproved of my new route decided to cut ties with me and soon more people would follow suit. I wasn’t a shiny toy anymore. I was an ordinary extra they could easily dispose of. That’s when I realised the amount of fake relationships I had forged.

Speaking of which, the boyfriend I had loved for so long til then also left. Quite nonchalantly and without saying a word. He would later profess that he did so out of pain of watching me change so much. But deep inside I had always known that he only valued my companionship when it involved more money than it did an affectionate bond.

What I had left by then was only the knowledge I had acquired and the prospect of soon obtaining a diploma. And as little as this might seem, to me it was everything. So much so, that I finally began to feel like myself.

The fresh air and the natural landscapes that now surround me give room to a better life perspective. One which I was quick to share with my new friends, who only care about the rawness of my soul regardless of the contents of my wallet. And soon enough I’d also fall in love. Like I never had before and in a way which can only be described as truly being the first time.

And all this because I decided to renounce to an apparently good life. A decision which, if I’m honest, I would make time and time again, for through it life showed me the virtues of choosing myself over everything else.

2 thoughts on “Reflections of a Nonconformist

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s