Blue was the theme of tonight’s photo op with my siblings. And blue has been that lingering feeling I have had since I have experienced major pitfalls in my life.
I lost. I failed. I broke. I wailed. People have hurt me. I hurt me. For some time, I lay in the darkness holding a matchbox with no match.
When I was 15, I thought I would be what I wanted to be in my 20s – on top of the corporate ladder, filthy rich, be respected as an individual and a professional, and have my own car. Boy, was I wrong. I dreamed of a perfect life for myself because apparently, happiness demands perfection. It was definitely not the case. As I went through my 20s, I had the front-row seat to the movie, “Life Isn’t All Rainbows and Butterflies – A True Story”. I would have loved to slap 15-year-old me with the realities of the future.
On the contrary, blue is also the color of clear skies. As the dark clouds move away, blue is that glimmer of hope and anticipation for a wonderful day. This kind of clarity gives a whiff of a fresh start… or continuation.
At 25, I want to continue my day-to-day fight. I may not have found the match to my matchbox but I found rocks that I can use to light a fire – a flame to ignite my drive to pursue the dreams not dictated by anyone else but me.
At 25, I choose to be extra resilient. I have decided to stop letting anyone or any circumstance shatter my optimism to live a better life from this point on. If I stumble along the way, I know God will lend me a hand especially in the moments when I will be trying to pick myself up.
At 25, I will keep molding myself into a better person not only for my own sake, but for my family’s as well. I will make sure that as I am moving forward, they will, too.
Blue is my favorite color. No matter what shade I will come across with in the spectrum, I’m ready to face it head on.