“I am already crawling through my lowest of lows when unsurprisingly a myriad of complications decides to hit me right in my gut, not just emotionally but mentally and yes physically leaving me tattered, trying to sabotage the values I live by. I am dealing with self-doubts and my insecurities are high on my nerves. I am oblivion to my future as a fashion designer and I am uncertain about the path I chose for myself. “Is this meant for me?” , sometimes blows my being leading to yet another existential crisis.”
Petrified, as I am ceasing to capitulate, choosing to stand tall, resisting to shade in the comfort of the fragile walls of despair, picking to fight amid the option of giving up; luring me relentlessly, somehow instigating me to challenge my duties to myself and deterring me to not to hustle for better.
In some other life, I was the person who would have been scared by the seeming abbreviation of the flavors in her situation, maybe incite to lose composure, worse is to let her misconstrue her abilities. But, no more.
Meticulously, I am weaving the change. Slowly, I am embracing it. Filling, with love, compassion, and benevolence. I am turning into an impregnable self-sufficient woman, aspiring constructivism, and fostering her values; religiously. Giving, an anguished farewell to melancholia. Forever.