A collection of short essays compiled from the 52Weeks series between August 3, 2019 and August 24, 2019 — curated here as a record of growth.
Introduction
In the last few years, the relationship between my formative years and the present has become more important to me. I’ve been documenting links between early memories and who I am now, so recently I think less about early adulthood, because by then my habits were nearly solidified, and I always considered that period less significant than others.
So it probably isn’t ironic that my twenties and thirties were the epitome of how wrong I was about everything.
I started writing this entry months ago, and continued it only because I’m convinced it will eventually help me move further away from my past. Yet, admitting stupidity and ignorance is uncomfortable, even if these are necessary traits in personal development.
Facing the massive imperfections that delayed my present self and complicated early life is necessary to abandon ego, which is a crucial aspiration since we are selfish beings. Life is a process; I should be embracing that fact instead of procrastinating.
One of my latest goals is to be more realistic about who I am today. Sometimes that’s a difficult task to achieve without judging, but that’s part of the process, too, I suppose. Perhaps sharing my insecurities in a creative setting will help — only time will tell.
Impact On Adulthood
Mom and I grew up alone because my parents split when I was really young. In fact, one of the first things I remember is standing in the front seat of our little car while she was crying. I don’t remember what she was saying then, but I’m sure it was resentful of my dad. Seeing her tears hurt me, but eventually they just made me want to never be like him.
When after my first marriage I became a thinking person, I realized how overdue its end really was; it only lasted as long as it did because of my mom. I learned almost everything I knew about relationships from her, yet she is not to blame.
I own my failures since I forgave myself for becoming dad. And I probably made exactly the same mistakes mom did, but I wouldn’t know — I’ve never asked her about it. Now I don’t plan to. Life is simply too short to question our imperfections, and I’d rather just move on.
Understanding of Origin
I started writing the next few entries over a year ago, and back then got bogged down thinking about where to start.
When you scrutinize your past, what are the boundaries — where do we stop asking questions about who we are?
Eventually I realized looking backwards was pointless — because successful self-discovery means accepting responsibility for my imperfections, instead of blaming the past for teaching me poor habits.
Besides, accepting my self is more important than understanding it. That’s why my story will begin and end with me alone.
The Reason
There's a fault in my structure /
It's always you and never me /
I threw the blame and it shattered /
And now there's broken glass praying to be healed
When I began heavily contemplating how I became the present version of myself, I was interested in the education and the challenge of the thought process. I just wanted to learn where I came from by connecting the dots that I could remember. After all, how much could I expect to learn by recycling my childhood and writing about it in my journal for a year?
Turns out there was a lot to uncover. But the thing is, almost none of my discoveries were real. I’ve always known my mistakes were mistakes. I have always been aware of my own imperfections. What did change was my willingness to accept it all — something I avoided because it hurt so much to consider I was wrong for seeking the comfort of becoming my parents.
So, how do I end the cycle? I think awareness of it is a good start. And, communication is an aspect because history is important when you are living within it. But most of all, I want him to know emotions are not for guidance because they lead us in circles.
I wasted half my life on that misunderstanding; hopefully he will do better.
He will be better.