When Optimism Is Selfish
Sometimes there is more harm in looking at the bright side.
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There is selfishness of optimism
In the middle of a cold, dark night of soul, I began to wonder — why I am so selfish with my pain and broken stories?
The hoarding of the stories keeps me from connecting to you.
Life is hard, horrible, beautiful and one day, it will be sweet.
Where are you? In the midst of the struggle that never seems to let up? Are you tired of being broken hearted?
Sometimes it takes ages to get to the good part!
And what a blessing that is. Why? Because as I look back on the pain of the journey, I see how blessed I am in the hardship/
This struggle iron-forged my integrity. It ran me through the fire to burn away the It stared me in the face, offered me every sort of shallow desire before showing me the price.
It made me choose the truth again and again over money. Power. Recognition. A false slick, plastic sense of self that keep everyone from me.
Oh don’t get me wrong! If given a choice, I would absolutely take the easy way out. Hand down. No contest.
I would sell myself out but for that little voice in my head that keeps me restless unless the right decision is made.
Optimism is important
Optimism is good. Optimism lets the dreams of a better life come true.
You have to have a light in the darkness of the world. Optimism can be that candle
And optimism also hands the knife to the wrong person so they can cut away at the world while you sit in your cloud castle of false sunshiney delusion.
I am so sick of being that person! You can stab me in the arm and I will still smile, trying to pretend that it doesn’t hurt because damn, I am an optimist!
But the truth is even more vital
I’m 27 years old. I’m divorced because my husband couldn’t be persuaded to stay and stop sleeping around. I live with my dad and while managing his house, taking care of my aging dog and the occasional sibling that stays here, it’s not where I wanted my life to be.
I am in a financial mess because I trusted the wrong people and gave until my soul bled for their sake. This sucked the life out until I had nothing left to give.
But this is what my life is right now. That’s okay!
Having only one pair of everyday jeans with a ripped seam in the thigh and a torn pocket to wear that made me sit down at odd angles to try and hide the hole? This will one day be a triumphant story.
All of the brokenness, the scarcity and the struggle make my heart deeper and my ability to love even stronger.
And so I am learning how to be okay enough with not being okay.
I’m learning how to embrace the truth of my life as is and look forward with hope.
And with all the cheerfulness, it’s time to accept how much this all sucks.
How painful, how crushingly humiliating it is to struggle to pay my meager bills after the years of hard work, sacrifice, and education that I logged. How being fired from a company that I cared deeply about and poured all of my own personal resources into tore me apart.
How much of a struggle it is to be at the “prime” of your life while fighting stress-induced illness. The sickening, throat slamming shame of being “lazy” because ongoing sickness is no excuse in my hardworking, individualistic Scandinavian cultural background.
How much I feel that I have failed despite my fight to rise above.
These obstacles are not going to be my downfall.
These blocks won’t keep me shut inside.
They are preparing me for the great things that are ahead.
Thank you for reading, friends! If you are in the midst of a terrible struggle, I wish truth, courage and honesty for you ❤
