I’ve been gone for a while.
Pressure kept building while I did my best to ignore it.
I stopped caring.
Stopped being happy.
Then someone took a tiny crowbar and entered my heart. Suddenly there was light on the horizon instead of the dark clouds that consumed me so intensely. Happiness once again warmed my skin. Love filled my pores. I realized I still had some purpose.
Sitting in the airport yesterday, she challenged me on something I said. She always challenges me.
I told her that she makes me want to be better. But did I really know what that meant? I said that I want to have the life where I can make someone else happy.
Seems easy enough, right?
She challenged me. “So for you, being better means making the people you love happy?”
At first I thought a simple, “Yes” was the answer. But I was boarding the plane and had a few minutes to think about it.
At what point does making someone “happy” destroy a relationship? Does it involve avoiding an argument just to make someone happy? Is it conceding just to avoid conversation? Is it the irrational belief that just by saying the right things everything will turn around and be ok?
Maybe I thought so. I’m not sure.
I would be challenged on that statement too.
Getting to my seat on the plane, I understood that’s not happiness.
I’m good at avoiding. Diverting.
I’m happy when I can make someone happy, but not because I am looking for the things that make that person happy. I want happiness to be natural.
No, I NEED it to be natural. It gives me purpose. It gives me life. It gives me love.
Maybe I can overcome my struggles.
There is hope.
Not just hope that I can “fix” something…hope that I don’t need to try to use happiness to fix the unfixable.