i’m a jerk | breaking free & being sentimental


Perhaps I’m just overly sentimental, but when I take a few minutes to scroll through old photos online, I can’t help but be flooded with memories and thoughts about each of those sweet, special moments.

I have a different feeling about each one of them… maybe it’s remembering an exact feeling or moment that made me feel alive, and sometimes a sense of regret over a lost friendship or a miscommunication that turned one sour.


The older I get, the more I decide that I want to live a truly harmonious life. It’s not that I want to pretend things are perfect or ignore when they’re not, but I want to be real, whole-heartedly loving and accepting of the people around me. Sure, you don’t have to like everyone, but it’s about not voicing every concern or beating people down for deciding to be about something you’re not, and choosing to stand on ground that helps both you and other people be the best, most authentic versions of themselves.

I still fail miserably at this sometimes. Even though it’s the way I want to live my life, sometimes I’m still a jerk. But – I don’t want to be, and I when I realize that I’m being one, I’m aware, and I want to stop.


Self-awareness: it’s step one to living a peaceful, open, accepting and full life.

There’s so much drama out there, and I know first-hand that it’s easy to get sucked in. But when I do, when I let it pull me in and I involve myself in something that’s so clearly not meant for my thoughts, words or actions – it feels yucky. I don’t like it, and I find myself having to untangle.


I am so very imperfect. I realize this over and over again, and when I sift through those memories of photos, I look at dear friends who are no longer dear friends because of one or two misunderstandings and it makes my heart sad. It makes my heart sad because I had a hand in that.

It can be so hard to say sorry.

Why is it so hard to say sorry?

But how good does it feel when you do.

Sure, it takes two to tango, and as much as most fallen friendships have some sort of two way street, it just takes one moment to take something from sour to sweet again. There is always a way to a higher road. That little voice inside of all of us, the voice that speaks humility and says “this world would be a better place if I could just let go and forgive” is the one worth listening to.

Hosting anger, frustration and hurt in my soul, letting them make a bed and stay for a while has done nothing but chain me down, and it only becomes more clear as I get older that there really isn’t any vacancy for them anymore.


So, if you’re reading this and you know me and love me, thanks for being my loves and believing in me during trials, frustrations and my moments of jerkness.

If you’re reading this and you don’t like me; that’s okay too. You don’t have to – but know that if I did or said something to hurt you or make you feel that way, I’m sorry, I don’t like that thought. The best version of me is trying desperately to break through, and as I become more self-aware and comfortable in my own skin, I’m breaking free from being a judgmental jerk.

If you don’t know me, maybe let this be a bit of inspiration for your journey – freedom really is found in the liberation of bitterness and entanglement.

I’ve been thinking a lot about this part of me lately; all of my dark corners, about how real I truly want to be, to live without making a negative impact on others. I am fully aware of every bitter, judgemental word I speak, and I’m doing my best to free myself from them – because I think the world would be better off without them. And so would I. Humanity fares well from humility.


I don’t want to look back on old photos with any sadness of bitter endings. Seasons of friendships come and go, and that’s alright. The beauty is in understanding that it’s life having people come and go, and the flaw is in trying to find the flaw in everything.

Try and see beauty everywhere, and in everyone, even when you disagree.

That’s how I want to try and live my life. It feels better that way.






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