Gratitude

I turned 22 on 14th December 2018, and realized that there are a lot of things I am grateful for. People, circumstances, places forcing me to grow up in a certain manner leading me to be the way that I am.

The people I know and surround myself had always been divided in categories in my head, subconsciously. There were people I knew I could fall back on, regardless of the situation, the ones I could count on to be there for me, unconditionally. There were some people who had me to help them out of their troubles, and would help me if I asked them. Some whose sole purpose was to have me around as a sounding board, to throw ideas at and see how well they’re accepted (or not). Those who always wanted me to be around without bothering if I wanted to be there or not, if I could be there or not.

I also realized that there may be people who, for me, belonged in the first category, but they might put me in the third. And that all of this was completely okay. People are allowed to have an opinion different from my own, and still be friends, and still be happy in the time we spend together.

It was my decision who I spent the majority of my time with. The ones who wanted to spend it with me? The ones I wanted to spend it with? The ones who just wanted someone to listen, my presence not being important? The ones I accidentally ended up with? Again, I realized that my conscious decisions could only help to a certain extent. I can’t micro-manage my own life, let alone others. I will end up spending a certain amount of my time with the person that needs me, or the person that I need. During the time I spend with them, I shall not know, which case it is. But I am appreciative of all of them, even the ones I have now stopped interacting with due to the toxic effect it has on my daily existence. I am thankful for all that they have taught me.

Growing up hits hard in ways more than one.

People who are just a phone call away, still are, but getting time to talk takes active involvement from both parties involved, adjusting of schedules on both sides, and the desire. People who used to be a phone call away, will also change. The company they surround themselves with may not be the kind you’re comfortable with, but they feel right at home, and you have to decide what is more important – their happiness or your comfort? You can spend a lot of time pondering over that doubt by yourself, but I have observed that one either chooses themselves, or lets the other person know of their discomfort, waits for an action from them, and then chooses their own comfort anyway.

Skills will be lost if you don’t keep them polished. For someone who was given the title of a “Walking Dictionary” at her high school graduation, I forget an awful lot of words. Not to mention the occasional spelling mistake of the most common of words.

If you don’t exercise, the effects start showing up. You either get tired too fast too easily or stay up late into the night, restless with all the stored energy without an idea of what to do with it.

And the most confusing of them all, life. Some people will be very enthusiastic about getting married to the extent of planning it down to a T. Others will be convinced that marriage is not meant for them. Some people will have opinions of kids, while you’re busy convincing yourself that you are not one yourself any longer. Some people will move to jobs, and progress upwards on the corporate ladder. Others will study further and still be years away from a steady job. You will be confused what to do with yourself. A lot of people seem to be pretending to have it together, and that seems like a clever thing to do, so you do it too. Until you realize, you’re a really bad method actor. Walls come crashing down and your ideals are reduced to a puddle. You sincerely have no clue what to do.

At times like these, I am glad my mother made me read Meg Cabot’s Princess Diaries. They are single-handedly responsible for my perspective on romance and friendship. They are also a major reason why I write. I am glad I wrote in my journals starting from the age of 10. It is a lot of motivation (and the slightest of pressure) when you’re trying to live up to the expectations of a 10 year old you. It keeps the focus going, reminds you why you’re on the path that you chose. Reminds you of everything you went through to reach here, and reminds you to write, so that when a thirty year old Shivani wants to look back, she looks at you and feels proud that she kept moving forward.