There is nothing for us anywhere except that which we create for ourselves. I think I've learned more and more that I am going to have to make my own happiness. As much as I say to myself that I've learned that idea, or adopted it, I still seek out others for my happiness. I am unwilling, unable to make my own.
It hurts to feel the same as I did when I was a child: mocked, ignored, abused. The difference is that now I have the ability to rise above and be my own friend. I have started to create the tools necessary to survive and thrive without others. Solitude scared me once. Now it is more of a thrill, a challenge, a new adventure.
I am myself. And I cannot help the reaction of others to that self. Whether or not they like, appreciate, or value who I am. All I can control has to do with me. I can choose to accept the lack of influence I have over the tastes of others. I can choose, for my own sake, to rise above the hurtful negligence of those who would treat me like a plaything.
Happiness, the fleeting thought, is something I will have to choose to identify and derive from within myself. I think, at long last, that there has been enough evidence to put the fairy tales and fanciful wishes away. I hope, for my own good, that this time it is a lesson I remember.
