I’ve been having the worst case of writers block. It’s almost a month since my last post and I just got this fake nails that are making my hand look extremely sexy as I’m typing. Anyway, it’s the 11th day of the second month of the year 2017 and referencing back to my Hey 20’s post, I’m back at my spot at the dinner table with my just my little sister this time trying to figure out the prime factors of 333. I referenced to Hey 20’s because I’m honestly beginning to think someone cursed birthdays for me. Each time my small, very weird and I’m not so sure sane circle of friends make birthday plans, someone in Kenya goes on strike! We just want a day filled with laughter and food and flirtation and just a little bit of sin here and there, is that too much to ask oh yee striking nation?!
That whole paragraph was just meant to kill my writers block and I think it worked! Now, let’s talk about resolutions 2017!
I remember when I was a teenager, feels good to say that, I always made resolutions and unlike most people I actually tried really hard to follow them through but somewhere along the way, I would throw in the towel, sometimes literally, and just say F### it. I kept journals and diaries, I’m hoping there is a difference and I wrote everything that I felt weird though I never really wrote on boys or fantasies or anything like that, it ranged from I want to publish a book and be famous or I want to slit my wrists and die kind of thing.
Anyway, as the years went by and I got my emotions a little stabilized and I stopped keeping journals and feelings and diaries, I stopped making resolutions and here is why: I expected. Here’s the thing about me, I hate expectation because over the years, I’ve had to deal with too much disappointment and it was not fun! For a time though, in 2014 immediately after I joined campus, I forgot a little and started expecting things again, call it the thrill of something new maybe? Anyway, as always my overly high expectations are crushed and it takes me to a dark place and to be fair to myself, I’m kind of scared of the dark!
So when people asked me what my resolutions were this year, I said nothing. I don’t want to turn this into some sobby post that will touch your heart or anything but I guess I’m just tired of feeling disappointed you know? I mean when people say why not just lower your expectations, I say no because why do I want to compromise something I want to be able to fit your low standards? Rather not expect anything so that whatever comes, is not really a loss- call it playing safe.
My best friend thinks that my ex-boyfriend damaged me and that’s why I seem to be spiraling out of control with this crazy talk as she calls it but I think that the stupid guy actually helped me finally put things in perspective. I mean with all the expectations I had since 2014 and all the disappointment I shoved aside and let slide, I’d grown to be someone that just sat in a corner and smiled, sometimes going a little dramatic and hoped that things would turned out as I expected. All the frustrations of that relationship or the previous ones not working out just seemed to build up too much and were turning me into someone I didn’t like. And, stupid relationships aside, even in life as a whole, I realized I was settling too much and expecting things to be just fine. I hate just fine!
Once I sat back and looked at how things had been going, I hated it and I hated this cocooned person I was turning into. I’m Misfitly Wild, I don’t settle, I don’t want just fine. I want fun and laughter and drama lots of drama and memories that make me laugh in the car and inside jokes with people who get me and lazy days where I can just sit and eat unhealthy and crazy nights where policemen are knocking on your door because your music and laughter is a tad too loud and weird conversations over the phone about life and food and music. I don’t want to be the girl that allows a boy to treat her just fine because he can, or the girl that lets fakeness surround her or the girl that feels she needs to act a certain type of way to fit into a certain type of crowd.
I want to be me. Misfitly Wild. The girl that is a little neat freakish, owns a blog, writes the longest captions on Instagram, takes pictures sometimes or writes a stupid quote or two when she can. The girl that gets overly emotional every time she hears a song and loves to Google recipes on the internet just so she can cook up some fancy food that mostly ends up in the trash coz it tastes awful- haha. The girl that won’t write anything more about herself because now it’s getting mushy.
I want to dare you, to start not expecting things from people and just go a little wild. Live, laugh, dance, kiss a boy or a girl or go on a date and bring those walls down a little. Go in with the end game of making a really great memory that you can tell your best friend about and see how it goes. If you haven’t noticed, I’m a sucker for memories, they are the only thing I know I’ll have left when the lights are out and everybody goes home.
Ps: If you’re single, lonely and alone like most of us, just check out my post 7 days to Love it pretty much guides you on how to survive this horror called Valentines and sharing is Sexy!