Have you every felt like you don’t know who you are? What you are? The phase where nothing seems to help resolve that inherent dilemma, no matter how many cigarettes you smoke, how much you smoke up, how many TV shows you binge watch, how many Pinterest inspired beauty “routines” you follow? The don’t relax you. Instead, they serve to sedate you, distract you further. The only thing that helps is writing, working, reading more. But since you’ve lost the discipline, it is incredibly hard.
I think about Mount Holyoke a lot these days. How alive I felt walking to class, doing my readings, discussing politics, feminism, life… That seems like just yesterday, and a whole lifetime away all at once. I found myself there. I’ve lost myself now. I guess finding yourself is a continual process, and that, in Obama’s words, “progress is never a straight line.” I’ve regressed, I know it. I am desperate to find myself again.