I am a good person.
In realising the only validation I should seek is that from myself, I once more am able to recognise how little of a screw up I really am.
I might have been better behaved and made fewer mistakes in the years leading up to this one, but that does not mean I am a failure now. I lack motivation and am not as intelligent as I once was. I don’t study as hard nor apply myself the way I did. I unintentionally put myself in some silly situations and it is not exactly appropriate to document my life on this blog anymore. I’m different.
I’m learning more about this world and how to make it my own. No longer is the simplicity of school, unemployment and living with my parents something I am granted with. I get to make my own choices now. They might not be the same as the hardworking, perfect angel old Sophie would make, but boy am I having more fun.
How conventionally “good” I am does not define how good of a person I can be. I am bloody brilliant. Totally messed up and tragic. But brilliant none the less.
I drink (way) more red wine than what is recommended and don’t like wearing a shirt unless I have to. I write poetry and songs instead of my essays and find comfort in the silence of 2am. I listen to Florence and the Machine when I should be tuning into the 14 hours of lectures I need to watch before this coming exam. I refuse to eat the flesh of a dead animal despite what my iron levels read. I am a ball of infection who doesn’t take care of herself all too well and think that the 600+ crystals I own will heal me better than a good night’s sleep. I am at war with this new developed anxiety and love to complain. I kiss boys I know I shouldn’t and will only ever be seen wearing dark clothes. I dance around alone in my room as stress management and piss off my building by singing a little too loud in the shower. The list goes on. But despite all of this, I freaking love myself.
At least I do in this moment, and that is why I am writing this. To remind myself when I fall off the rails and forget again.
I have passion, courage and spirit. I have been hurt badly and overcome more than I care to disclose to people. I battle with my mind and past frequently, resulting in an angry girl who wears a little too much eyeliner on a bad day, but other days I win. I put on a yellow skirt and smile. Because I am enough.
I am a good person.