A Dustland Fairytale

Once upon a time...

...there was a beautiful princess named Amanda. She loved pretty dresses and sunglasses and ponies and punk rock. But she had a secret. Every night when the sun set, Amanda turned into a toothy and terrifying AMANDASAURUS REX! Miss Rex's blog is much more interesting and frequently updated than this one, so I advise you to proceed there... IF YOU DARE.

Who I am hates who I've been




I am recycling my childhood, along with receipts and bank statements from two years back and the occasional birthday card that someone signed and sent me out of obligation. Sifting through all the typed and scribbled words that defined my high school self is like reading somebody else's biography. I don't know who I was, though at the time I was sure I had myself and everything else figured out.

I thought I was open-minded, accepting, and loving, but I was quick to judge everyone, at the same time condemning them for judging me (which I still believe they did, but that never gave me the right to write them off like I did). Honest to God, I don't know how I held down any friends. I thought I was comfortable in my own skin, but I was narcissistic and confident to the point of arrogance. I assumed most of my peers deserved my contempt, thinking I was better than them - because I cared about academics, because I didn't drink or party or have sex with random guys, because I had written a book, because I was a Christian.

That last one kills me the most. Christians are supposed to be humble and think others better than themselves, but the way I wrote about myself and the people I encountered from day to day clearly shows that I thought I was worth a whole lot more than any of them. Instead of showing them Christ-like love, I just avoided them altogether. My attitude was more or less a middle finger to all but my closest friends; everyone could go to hell for all I cared. Jesus would have befriended them. I know he would have. He loves them so much more than I ever did or could.

So this is just to say, for anyone who cares to listen, that I'm sorry for the person I became. I'm sorry that it took so long for me to change. I'm ready to be sure I never become that way again because who I am hates who I've been.

Who I am hates who I've been.

1 comments:

krystinadee said...

This song means so much to me, it saved me from myself a couple years ago when I graduated middle school. I hated who I was back then... thankfully I've moved on from a few friends and started anew.

Basically, I've let go of my past, but I always remind myself that to let go isn’t to forget, not to think about it, or ignore. It doesn’t leave feelings of anger, jealousy, or regret. Letting go isn't about winning or losing. It's not about pride, and its not about how you appear, and it's not about obsessing or dwelling on the past. Letting go isn't blocking memories or thinking sad thoughts, and doesn't leave emptiness, hurt, or sadness. It's not about giving in or giving up. Letting go isn't about loss and it's not about defeat. To let go is to cherish memories, to overcome and move on. It is having an open mind and confidence for the future. Letting go is learning, experiencing, and growing. To let go is to be thankful for the experiences that made you laugh, made you cry, and made you grow. It's about all that you have, all that you had, and all that you will soon gain. Letting go is having the courage to accept change, and the strength to keep moving. Letting go is growing up. It is realizing that the heart can sometimes be the most potent remedy. To let go is to open a door, to clear a path and let yourself free. Happiness is not something that can be held onto for a little while, each and everyone’s life depends on happiness to get us through each day. We have grown to believe that happiness is the only thing we feel really proud of once we seek and use it wisely. Nothing can be compared to it, it is something that we ALL can do and reverse. It’s like a test where we are able to retake over and over again and make the things in our life happen how it’s suppose to happen. We are the instruments in our own lives, no one is going to tell or show you how life’s supposed to be. In the end, its not the years in your life that counts, it’s the life in your years that matter.

Big rant, I know. Sorry :$