Sarah O.
Photography by Jarek Campbell
If you’re reading this, you have to forgive yourself first.
Forgive yourself, even when it’s hard. Forgive yourself for all the embarrassing moments, dumb mistakes, and painful memories that sneak up on you just when you thought you were finally over it. Forgive your younger self for not knowing better. Forgive yourself on days when you don’t have the energy to keep up, or when you drop the ball. Forgive yourself when you let others down and forgive others equally as often. Forgive yourself for who you used to be and understand that it doesn’t need to define who you are now. There is no reason to stay stuck living in the past; constantly ruminating on where you went wrong will only prevent you from living in the present and growing into your best self.
“You’re so mature for your age!” “What an old soul!” “You’re a gifted student!” Seemingly compliments that directly translate to “We have higher expectations for you,” “Don’t let us down,” and “We expect you to behave older than your age.” As an oldest child, a first-generation college student, and a perfectionist with ADHD, I grew up under the impression that I had no room to screw up or be bad at anything. Every small mistake felt like a massive screw-up to me. I developed a fear of failure that prevented me from trying new things, starting new hobbies, or being myself.
As a teenager, I so badly wanted to fit into spaces where I didn’t feel like myself: my hometown, youth groups, high school lacrosse teams, school organizations, and some of my past friendships. I walked around with my head down, made self-deprecating jokes and comments, and came off as a cold person upon first impressions. When I looked in the mirror, I could only see the negative things about myself — all the things I was not: not smart enough, not pretty enough, not confident enough, and not special or talented enough.
For most of my life, I have struggled with PTSD, anxiety, and depression. I spent my teenage years angry at the world for the trauma I had to go through at a young age that caused me to grow up so quickly. I was convinced that the world was out to get me. I spent every day at war with my insecurities and let them control my personality. They made me a negative, cynical person with horribly low self-esteem. It was exhausting being a victim of my own life.
I hated myself for how I saw the world and how negative I was. I was lashing out at the people I loved most, constantly complaining, putting myself down, and blaming my struggles on anything other than myself. I used to base my happiness and self-worth on validation from relationships, academics, social media, and the opinions of people I didn’t want to be anything like. I thought I would be happy when I got better grades, got rid of my acne, achieved a 4.0, lost ten more pounds, saved X amount of money, wore more makeup, bought new clothes, changed my hair, or did anything to prove to others that I was worthy – because I, myself, didn’t believe I was worthy of anything; not even happiness. And it was never enough.
I had a rude awakening a few months before I turned 20. 20 years old? When did life sneak up on me like that? Was I supposed to continue feeling this way for the rest of my life? It was the first time I’d been able to look back on my life and realize that I was actually in control the whole time. I was to blame for how I reacted to those circumstances; I set those unrealistic expectations for myself and punished myself for the things I had never been able to make peace with and move on from. I was my own antagonist; there was no real reason for me to choose to hate myself every day. I could change who I wanted to be at any given moment, and I did not have to be the person my anxiety convinced me I was.
Life is about experiencing, not being perceived.
When I turn 30, I want to look back at this decade and be proud of myself for how I chose to let myself act my own age for once. I don’t want to look back with regret because I was living for the validation of others that I was never going to find. I want to say that I lived a life that was wholly and authentically my own. I want to say that I always chose to be kinder than I felt. That I was unapologetically true to myself and my values, regardless of what others would think or say. That I took the best care of myself and radiated love to others. That everything I did was with authenticity, confidence, and integrity. That I chose friendships that helped me grow into the best version of myself, with people who truly saw me and loved me for everything I am, including the things I find harder to love about myself. That I was able to give myself all the love and compassion I so desperately craved from my surroundings. Because I am the only person responsible for creating a life I look forward to living every day.
Slowly, I began to choose love. Sarcastically, I started saying “Love is in the air!” over and over again to myself and my friends whenever I would notice little joys–like making guacamole with my roommates, finding a new favorite song, or peeling and sharing an orange with someone I love. I realized love presents itself in small intimate ways, and joy didn’t have to be some grand gesture. Even on my worst days, I have a lot to be happy about.
I began to choose softness with myself, listening to my body and brain when it said enough was enough. I began only doing things for myself out of love, not hatred or insecurity. Once I started being soft with myself, I was softer with the world. I felt so much more human: It was easier to smile, easier to be kind, easier to get tasks done, and easier to love others. It also became easier for me to accept love from others, because I finally felt worthy of it. Forgiving myself made it easier to forgive others, too. Resentment is a very heavy and uncomfortable weight to carry; I choose to forgive often and set it down in the past. It makes it so much easier to keep moving forward.
What started as a cheesy, sarcastic phrase slowly became a mantra I began to believe and see everywhere in my life. I started forcing myself to notice the love and gratitude in everything until it became habitual, the same way I forced myself to see the worst in everything before. This shift certainly didn’t “cure” me of my mental health struggles, but it gave me more agency over my life and brought me out of the victim mindset I used to live in. It helped me become a better friend, student, and leader and helped me feel more grateful and present in my life.
I still have days where my anxiety gets the best of me or where I start to think, “Oh no, things are getting bad again.” The difference now is that I give myself the grace and forgiveness to acknowledge that those feelings are only temporary instead of guilting and shaming myself for struggling or letting them consume me. I remind myself that a small part of me is actually very grateful, as strange as it sounds, that I get to experience the full range of human emotions and be able to learn and grow from them. I forgive myself for who I have been, and respect myself for everything I have gone through to get here. I allow my current self to try everything, to feel it all, and to fail often for the benefit of the person I am still becoming. No matter who you are, who you’ve been, or what has happened to you, please remember to forgive yourself often and unconditionally.
To who I am, and who I am yet to be!
Sarah O., Virginia Tech
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