I’m happy. This is a very strange feeling for me and one that was foreign. But I’d been noticing it of late: things don’t piss me off, my short fuse has gotten longer, and I generally approach things with equanimity. And people. I like people now. It was hard for me to identify this fact in me because I guess I’ve never been happy before; I’ve been content, no one has ever died on my lawn, but I’ve never had a sustained period where I’m just…happy.
So I stepped back to figure out what’s going on in my life that could possibly make me happy. My father is dying, I’m worried about money, finding a job (in three years), and failing law school. I’m stressed beyond belief and feel like my friends will think I’ve abandoned them because I don’t have time to talk to them (or blog to them). But somehow—still happy.
And then I realized: I’m living my life the way I want to. I’ve completely abandoned the desire to make my parents happy. I’ve allowed myself to do what I want to do. I’m in a relationship that supports me, I live with my best friend, I’m going to law school (which, entertainingly falls in both the “good” and “bad” categories when I quantify my life), and I’m in control.
In high school & college, I did what I did because I was supposed to. After college, I got a job that I didn’t like so that I could pay the bills and live with my boyfriend. Even though the last half of that sentence was what I wanted, it came at a high cost (plus my family went off the deep end about that). But now, I’m only doing what I want. And I never knew before this that I was unhappy.