Welcome back to another episode of me receiving some epiphany about life. To provide you with some background, I will tell you why I decided to write about this mainstream topic which you probably have already seen enough on your feed or even tattooed on your mind.
Lately, I have been thinking about my life decision, more specifically about my higher studies. I have a lot of conflict with myself and other people, like my parents for example. Sometimes, we don’t see eye-to-eye and we don’t agree on everything ‘cause I have always been the rebel child - I’m an ENTP so debate me to not debate me. Ever since I was a child I have always dreamt of foreign countries and big cities. I wanted to live under the Eiffel tower or the grandeur of New York. They are part of me. Then something happened, it was shocking and completely shattered my mental state. I spent all night crying about it until the point where my eyes are like ping-pong balls. I spent days trying to articulate my feelings, trying to find a sense of what I should feel about it, and my next decision surrounding my study. I’ve written down everything and I decided to give up on it. I said to my friend that I had already given up on my dreams to live abroad because the person that I thought would support and believe me turns out to be skeptical of it. I thought, nobody believed in me, I got zero support so why am I trying so hard to prove myself any better? I was utterly desperate and confused by my feelings and noticed a little bit of change in how I see my study from that time. I lose interest in big conversations, philosophy, or even taking my course. I told myself, ‘que sera sera’ whatever will be will be, or at least whatever my parents decide me to be.
Then something about my favorite teacher's sayings bothered me, she brought the not-so-underrated non-fiction book into our conversation. The book which she decided to become her second bible, the bright orange book with an explicit word on its title, The Subtle Art of Not Giving A Fuck. The thing about me that you should know is that I am not a big fan of non-fiction books. I see them as stupid but given my condition at that time, I try to give it a shot. I downloaded it - sorry bibliophiles, this time I need to pirate this book - and read the first part of it and I swear if I lived in a cartoon film you probably could see a bulb shining above my head. It was my AHA moment, the moment I realized how fucked up I am. The moment where I mutter ‘I gave too much fuck!”
The strings go back to 2017 when my mom asked me to accompany her to a reunion with her friends. One of her smart-ass friends asked me about what will be my major later in university. The 13-year-old girl who was interested in books and pretty words at the time confidently answered with ‘literature’. I know now that at that moment, I was stupid. She answered, ``What the hell are you going to do with that? What job will you have later? Can you even eat from that?’ The little girl was being humiliated by her and her mom in front of the people. For years I held grudges, I’m mad at her for saying those things and for asking in the first place. I was so mad and traumatized until the thought of literature as my major does not cross my mind anymore. I didn't research about it and I let it go. But, I never stop as in; I never stopped reading; I brought back my writing passion in the following years and I kept my passion for literature even though I already buried my dreams to study it at university or make it my main source of income later in the future.
Another event that contributed to my AHA moment is when I was at my aunt’s house. I don't remember clearly what our conversation was about but I remember we were talking about holidays and foreign countries. And as usual little Fern did it again. I expressed my interest in European countries and their culture. I said ‘ I would love to be there, see those buildings and Mona Lisa with my own eyes”. Their response? They laughed. They laughed and chuckled at what I'd said earlier. My mom was there and she was just too confused to say anything or to add any commentary. Then I went home thinking ‘what is wrong with a girl who has a dream? Is it too unrealistic to dream of the Louvre or Davinci for once?’. I never thought about it anymore and decided to move on with my life.
These two (there’s more actually) are the reasons why I am dying to get out of this country. I am doing it because I want to prove to everyone; hey I’m here, notice me please. the girl with a dream that is too big for herself. The girl who you laughed at. The girl who you underestimated. and the girl who you don't put your faith on. I am here and I am successful thanks to your cynical acts.
But then I started to roll my memory again, and that’s when I got this AHA moment. I just gave too much fuck about what my mom said. I believed in what she said and manifested it until I got ping-pong eyes for 3 days and had my depressive days because of it. When the reality is, I just need to give less fuck! and I'll be off without it.
The moment I start to give less fuck is exactly the moment I thrive. I don't care what my mom’s friend says and I keep on doing what I love, and a few years after that my very own writing is published by a platform that has thousands of readers! My writing multiplied and became better every time I wrote. They are being loved by people out there who don't even know who I am. Called me a narcissistic but the feeling when someone told me that my writing helped them, is the most precious feeling ever. My relationship with Europe has gotten to the next level. I speak French and Italian now because I never stopped loving them. I understand art a lot more compared to my classmates. I understand empiricism, realism, existentialism, or any western philosophy because I never stopped loving them. I am good at philosophy compared to students of my age.
Those commentaries just make me better at everything. Even though I don't count my accomplishments as bright and big, without the pressure to please anyone I become happier with whatever it is. Even the smallest achievement made me proud of myself.
The paradox of happiness is a term that I use to describe how happiness can be found when you stop finding them. Albert Camus, the existentialist himself, said when you are too busy chasing the meaning of life, you forget how to live. It’s the same thing as breathing, when you try to find the best way to breathe you end up having a weird rhythm of breathing. But instead, breathing comes naturally, you don’t have to think and let air flow into your lungs. ‘Duh, breathing is natural, it is something we have done since we were brought into this world’ Exactly! That's what I want you to say, Natural. See happiness as something that comes naturally and gradually. Not something that you need to chase or find. Happiness can lay in the smallest thing, the most mundane thing ever. I remember the feeling when I got a doll that I never expected to be mine. And if you could see the doll, you’d probably say, ‘what the hell? that’s a fucking Chucky over there’. But you don’t know how little I, was so happy when I got her. I brought her here and there, in and out of my bedroom. It’s like happiness that comes naturally. It’s something that I don’t need to rationalize, whether this doll is haunted or not, about its price, or the dress whether it’s my liking or not.
Sometimes, with every access that we have now, we feel like we need to be happier and better at everything. But the truth is that the world is a fucked up place and you can’t please everybody. Everyone’s fucked up, at least once in their life, but it doesn’t mean your journey ends right there. We all have a choice, accept the world is fucked up then curled into a cave or decided to live up with it. As for me, I chose the second option and have been choosing it since the beginning.
Trying to please everybody will not give you any satisfaction. In the end, people are going to ask more and more of you. Even if you have a lot of money, people won’t stop judging you or be satisfied. The truth is that those people let their ego talk and it brought them nowhere! yes NOWHERE. The people who judged me, underestimate me, they rest there. They are in the same place as before, the same place as the day where they trashed-talk you. But you? You have rolled with it, you’re improving and you become better each day. even if it is just 0.1% you still decided to be better without pressure from anybody. It's getting natural.
To conclude, I just want to say, Life is a bitch, everybody fucked up even the world itself. Don’t give too much fuck because they don’t too.
That is not egocentric, that’s just how happiness works.
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