Growing up, I thought that only Other people got to be happy. And there was this special group of people who were the Others...I didn't know them, I'd never met them, but I knew that they were out there because the TV told me so. I thought the best I could get was maybe A Little Less Miserable, but even that seemed elusive most of my life. I was choked down and held back by the insidious 'If Only's. If Only I was skinny, If Only I had the perfect job, If Only my partner would do/be xyz...endless messages I bombarded myself with, pushing me farther and farther from Real Happiness.
But here I am, happy. If my 20 year old self could meet my 36 year old self, she would probably pop me in the face for being so damn happy. Misery seems to be another label that I attached myself to. It was a big part of who I was. L is supposed to be miserable. To hell with that I say. When I started this journey into happiness, I have to admit that I felt some level of shame (and shaming from others) when people started to notice this positive change in my psyche. Why? Why is it such a bad thing to be happy, to see the good in other people, to be proactive in one's own life? Frak that crap, I will not apologize for feeling good, and doing the things that make me feel good. I hope that all the people I love can find and do the things that bring them joy...without guilt, without shame, and without hesitation.
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