Is it Regret?

4526718It would be easy for someone to pat my back lightly now as they reassure me that what I’m feeling is perfectly normal. That unexplained feeling, even though I have no intention of going back in time, I can’t help but feel a slight twinge in in my chest. It could be the superficial side of me, if that’s what you would prefer to think, I don’t know.

All I know is that I couldn’t help but feel a falter in my steps. The steps that had recently changed to a light skipping of pure happiness, for a second had faltered. And I can’t help but read into it more than I should.

It’s been a while since my last visit to my blog. It would be a lie if I said I had no time to update because I was so busy. Things were a little hectic the past two weeks, of course in a good way. But even though my blog crossed my mind each day at least once, there was no intense pull as usual. I had nothing to write about other than how amazing things were. I felt like I would just be listing my day in bullets.

But who knew social media would bring me back here like a desperate addict, crawling towards the keyboard to put in just one more word.

Several months ago I had deactivated all my online accounts, only leaving my blog alone. I cleansed myself of the ideals of what and where I should be as an 18 year old at this moment. Facebook and other social medias are wonderful in showing how small the world can be. However, it can be terrifying when you’re at your lowest and their ability to depict how everyone’s life is so perfect (even though it’s most likely not true). It was the same for others when they saw my life through the lens of social media. Everyone thought how amazing it was to be me, assuming I was traveling the world from a few pictures that I had posted while going through depression in isolation. Proving that they were just snapshots…just mere moments in my life.

However, I found myself once again logging into my account at my sisters and mothers urging. My sister was traveling Europe and my mother obviously wanted to see images of how her daughter was doing, and my sister clearly just wanting to show off in her own adorable way. I didn’t mind but even without realizing, I found myself checking my social media accounts every day and found myself finding less and less will to make time for my blog.

Then the reminders of the memories I wouldn’t have, began hitting me one blow after the other. The Graduation Ceremony. Prom. Tears from farewells. Smiles from year long friendships.

You could say its superficial . But the old me that had dedicated her life to being an exceptional student, used the expectation of the last few months right before entering college as consolation whens things got hard. I grew up preparing my life to live the glamorous life my sister’s living with her yearly diplomatic balls with floor length gowns, traveling the world, and exotic ideals. The life my family and I prepared for me without realizing suddenly is left as an awkward memory from the expensive purses, dresses with their tags still on, and piles of academic books stored away. It’s not that I won’t touch them ever but not necessarily the way we had thought. I can’t seem to bring myself to go towards them.

I keep telling myself its not regret I feel but rather just an awkward moment of truth I have to face by myself. I never doubted my successful future career wise because the great amount of support and unfaltering confidence I received from my support system. But with how uncertain life has been for me, more than usual, I can’t help but for a second have an urge I never had before. Search up those forbidden names. See how the bullies of my insecurities were doing in Β their life. I had always prided myself of never doing it before because that was how earnest my will was to throw them out of my life. But I felt bothered. I knew I was just taking a different road than the majority, but as always the temptation appears where you know it won’t help to know but you still want to know.

You can take this as me rambling while being unsure and confused. They are such small moments, thoughts, and feelings that will most likely disappear. I might not even remember them. However, for me the smallest things never fail to make me happy. To say that the smallest things also can’t hurt or make me confused wouldn’t be fair. I guess it’ll take time and more effort to learn how to be equally kind to myself as I am to others. I am human too. No matter how much of an old soul I am , I am only 18 too. I had hopes and aspirations to where I would be now. Even if it might have been in a gown, waiting for my prom date to come pick me up. Even if I hate to admit it.

But thankfully, to answer my own question…it isn’t regret.



  1. I forgot for a second that you were writing about yourself because it honestly felt like it was written about me. I’m 18 also, just finished my first year in college and I feel everything you express here. Such a relief to read someone else say the same things I’m thinking.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you for reading! I still often feel awkward just writing about myself and often feel like I’m not helping anyone. But that fact that someone can relate gives me great comfort. I hope you feel better soon! πŸ™‚

      Liked by 1 person

  2. My goodness you are an amazing writer for your tender age. I wish I had it half together in the way you seem to ! My sons both went through what you seem to be struggling with. It settled down in their mid twenties, if that makes you feel better. Social media is what it is. Take from it what you need and ignore the rest. Most people are lying about their awesome perfect lives on there anyway. KEEP WRITING!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I understand how confusing it is to find your own identity especially in teenage years, I really liked the unique and earnest way that you expressed yourself πŸ™‚ wonderful!

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s