For the longest time I always felt that if I didn’t show feelings, then I was being brave. That if I wasn’t affected, then I was being courageous. That if I didn’t feel inside, then I could fully live out my life. That anytime feelings or emotions did come out that I had failed. That I needed to go back and build my walls thicker, taller, stronger, so that I could not be affected again.

But every time they would break. Every time I would eventually fail. It’s so counter-intuitive to me to begin to comprehend and understand that feelings are everything. They are what make us human. Being affected is what makes us connect, grow, empathize, understand, love. That living a life devoid of feelings and being affected is already being dead. What I thought was my defense mechanism to save me was actually killing me.

And yes sometimes, often times, being affected and feeling is so hard. It can take us to places maybe we never wanted to go, but there is no joy without sorrow. There is no true understanding of happiness without the brutal loss that also comes with life. I have known loss, and I never wanted to go back, but even in that memory of such loss is such happiness, such joy, such exuberance of life. There isn’t one without the other and to try to deny that is to float a path of in between, of no feeling, of not being affected, and then you are already dead.

I don’t know what the future holds, but I’m here now ready and willing to welcome it with open arms and a smile on my face or tears on my cheeks.

I feel like such a fool.

How did I ever think that something like this could even have a chance of happening? How could I blind myself so much to what was so obviously right in front of me? Held back by timing, politics, goodwill, and wise council. Now left as a fool that never expressed the inner most feelings, keeping it hidden, locked away, held inside. Exposed to the truth as it all fades away. Left to deal with these hidden feelings, to suffocate them once again.

courage and resolve; strength of character
clench (the teeth), especially in order to keep one’s resolve when faced with an unpleasant or painful duty.

It’s been the word of the year for me and will continue to be for this year as well I feel. I don’t consider myself a courageous type person, or really someone who has a ton of character, but resolve. Well resolve is something I’ve held dear to for all my life.

Resolve would define me just as much as my struggle used to truly define me and still plagues me today. Grit it seems is not just a word of the year for me but my life’s testimony. And not an outward grit facing insurmountable odds or any other great obstacle of life to persevere on. But an inward grit to simply carry on.

To breathe, to wake up, to get out of bed, to not give up on life. To constantly take a step forward even though it feels like I’m constantly going backwards. This is no great romance, just a fight to live a life and see it through to the end.

To fulfill a promise, a vow, to live for those who never got to see the chance to live a full life. And where I might have wanted so bad to trade places, I live on, if not for me, at least for their memories, for their legacies.

This will be no grand life I live in the bigger picture of everything. But it is my life, my story, my truth. All I can live is my truth and that happens to come with much grit.