There’s always something beautiful about
the concept of starting over in the New Year that never seems to get old. Goals
to work out, be healthier, save more money. Whether it’s scribbled inside the
backside of the journals or that social media status. When an inner voice
inside of the head whisper, 2018 is going to be “the year of me”, I doubted it.
I doubted myself and my self-thought, but there is also an inner little hope
that tries to fight off all the negativity and it bridge the gap between who we
are and who we want to be. It gets us closer to the idea of being the best
version of ourselves.
That maybe, just maybe, we would be the
ideal version of ourselves if we had more freedom less responsibility –
whatever it may be. I hope at the end of the year, when I look back at the
layers I peel and unravel all the bullshit, I can finally learn to open up. And
I hope that I would want to wake up to and respect for. It’s said that if you
don’t feel good about yourself, it’s hard to feel good about anything else, and
I find that to be quite true.
And I hope, I am on the way to finding
back myself, to loving myself and being happy.
