Find a life of your own.

As I do it a lot, I spent a huge amount of time today stalking people on instagram as one of the people from my class posted something - so naturally I checked who liked her picture. I stumbled upon a long list of ex-friends/people I've just outgrown due to distance when I saw a familiar name pop up.

Wait. This is the guy I had a crush on in fifth grade.

Of course I stalked the heck out of his page and looked at his photos ten thousand times (although my bff of course keeps me up-to-date with the out and abouts of my old class). And it initiated something: A kind of throwback to all the guys I ever had a "crush" on as a kid.

When I was in kindergarten and I was still convinced (like I kind of am today - although it's not possible and I know that) that you could just pick out a boy who seemed remotely nice, like him, he'll like you back and that's it. Maybe I've watched too many movies back then or I read too many books in elementary school. Anyways , there was this boy called P (obviously his name is longer, but I don't want anything to slip through to anyone) and he was my first and I think ever male friend. Of course little Sarah thought "You can't be friends with a guy without being in love with him!" (funny enough still a thing that clings onto me today although I also know that is completely dumb). So when we entered elementary school, I was willing to have a crush on him. However, it turned out that he was an asshole who did everything his buddy told him (who I was mutual enemies with) so he ended up annoying the f out of me so I just stopped talking to him.

Then of course, I needed to fill up that space, so a few days into elementary school, I feel for this guy who perfected the Justin Bieber hairstyle already in first grade. At that time, I also watched Pokémon and you might remember how attractive Brock turned whenever he met a girl he liked? Yeah, you know kinda know what that boy looked like or who I made him up to be. Unfortunately, a "friend" of mine quickly spilled the secret to him when we were doing a group project and he proceeded to ignore me. Did that stop me from liking him? Nope.

This even got to the point that I actually wrote my first and only love letter to him (an ugly drawing and some cheesy line like "you are the best person on this whole entire world) and sneaked it into his mailbox with my mum on Valentine's Day (I know it can barely get any cheesier than that). He ignored that, too, up until he told some guys in my class in 5th grade and they started making fun of me for it. That was the glorious end to this story.

However, as I already said, I always needed someone to fill the void so I took it upon me to fall for one of the only guys in my class who knew about the love letters but still treated me in a friend sort of way. On top of that, he was really funny and I just really liked that back then. He was the only person, apart from P, who was kind of a male friend to me (although, you've seen the pattern, I destroyed that with my "crush" too).

I was pretty open about my secrets back then so I told some friends, and one of them was like the most popular girl in our class. She asked me if she could tell him, and I said she could do that after the last day of school because we would be moving anyways so I wouldn't have to face him. As always, things don't always turn out the way you plan and she went up to him the following day. Now, bear in mind that I did not find that out until like two months after I left because my bff eventually told me. So when we went to the cinema with our class and coincidentally sat next to each other and his hand was so close to me and sometimes brushed my arm or my leg, I was of course all happy and bubbly. During the break in the movie (this isn't even a thing nowadays anymore) he asked me if I had a crush on somebody. Taken aback, my bff and I invented some ridiculous story about a violet cactus and had a lot of fun. Things got even weirder when he hugged me out of nowhere on our last school day (hugging also wasn't a thing back then). It all got me optimistic he liked me, too. We texted for a while after I left but stopped eventually and I found out the truth and then distance put the last thing on top of the reasons why I stopped liking him that way.

What's the moral of the story? (besides my inability to have a real crush on people or being friends with a male person or differentiate between a meaningless crush and real love)

I don't really know, maybe just that things go on, you learn more along the way and you can only learn from past experiences. And also that so many things play a role as to why you're the person you're today and you can't control it, as well as I can't control who I'm going to be in ten years, or even twenty.

Making mistakes is a part of life and maybe it's wrong of myself to be scared to open myself up to people just because of these bad memories. Well, maybe I'll somehow learn how to. Until then, I hope my mistakes in life and love help me to find a life of my own.

xxx Sarah

I don't know about you but I'm a frantic daydreamer. Wherever I go, whether I do it on purpose or not, I make up scenarios in my head. What would happen if I did this? What if the other person reacted like this? What could happen? The possibilities are endless.

And the great thing about daydreaming is that it's all in your head. You don't have to live with the consequences. Maybe you can also avoid some consequences by playing it through, thinking about possible ways to handle the situation and choosing the best one.

However, those scenarios barely ever work out in real life. In real life, there's other people with a different set of traits, different experiences, and therefore a different way to react than you might think. Sometimes you wish it weren't like that, that you could avoid pain and hurt by just moving everyone around like chess figures. But it would be kind of depressing after a while, wouldn't it? I think one of the best things about life is the unpredictability of it.

Don't get me wrong, it does happen that your daydream becomes reality in some kind of way, it also happened to me a few times. And just because I thought about this scenario already, it doesn't make the memories less captivating.

But what I recently found to be problematic about it is that it's also a way of running away from reality. Sometimes we get so caught up in our thoughts, we miss what's happening in front of us. We're not participating, as Charlie (The Perks Of Being A Wallflower) would say.

"And I know these will all be stories someday and our pictures will become old photographs and we'll all become somebody's mom or dad. But right now these moments are not stories. This is happening."
“You'd rather make up a fantasy version of somebody in your head than be with a real person.”

Have you ever kept a letter? Maybe a love letter or something a dear friend of yours have written or even just a postcard? Have you locked it in a box or tucked it in a corner for years and years to read it again and again when you're having a nostalgic day?

I keep literally everything in a big folder in my book shelf. It was once a binder full with sheets of a brand that was pretty popular when I was a kid (for all my fellow German readers: Did you also collect tons of Diddl sheets? In elementary school we literally turned it into a trading thingy) but then I started writing to pen pals so I had to re-purpose it. Over time, a lot of letters were added, those of my internet best friend, postcards or letters my elementary school best friend and I wrote at home and traded at school up until we started a whole sort of clique in which we mostly traded said letters.

Sometimes I read through them again (especially all the drama - if only I knew what was still up for me). Of course I notice the pages and the ink slowly wear off the more I read through them. And it makes me kind of sad - what if all these memories are someday just gone?

But that's the thing with memories - they wear off, they fade away and sometimes we forget even the best moments we ever had just because they were replaced by, well, just better ones. Or we feel such a distance that we cannot remember the feeling anymore.

I got that with a lot of people my younger self would say I had a crush on. What did it feel like? What made me like them? What were those special moments I clung onto at night? Why does it feel so irrational to ever have fallen for that person?

Whenever it hits me, I feel a bit sad. Because I realize: Feelings fade, too. And sometimes you just want to forget how special someone made you feel but over time, all of it loses its spark and you feel alienated from your feelings.

I don't want to forget the freedom I felt as a kid, running around on our lawn, dancing and singing and building tree houses in the woods and doing pranks on our neighbors - only to ring the bell and leave them some flowers to make them smile. I don't want to forget the way it felt when we moved here, how it was all exciting and new, I want to be able to remember those moments when I felt like I truly belonged somewhere - the list goes on and on.

But maybe there's also something comforting to it. Because even if you feel like you'll never get over this loss, or this heartbreak or that version of yourself you once lost - it will pass. As everything does in life. Maybe I'll just wake up one day and won't remember him. Or one day I might have find my purpose in life along the way.

It can happen. It happens. I barely remember 2014, aka the worst year of my life, anymore. Not because the lessons I learned are not important, but more because I found my place and I learned to love myself so the words they used to hurt me don't mean anything to me anymore.

Isn't it beautiful? How we cling to feelings and memories as if they were our favorite teddy bear but at the same time we sometimes can't wait to let them go?

I think there's something extraordinary about it. About life, how it all works out in the end. And someday, even if you can't remember certain things, you'll find a life of your own without them (and maybe you'll someday meet someone from your elementary school class again - and you'll just talk about life and laugh at the good old times).

xxx Sarah

Giving up. It seems easy, doesn't it? Just putting all the problems aside. Saying "whatever, it'll happen the way it'll happen. I can't influence anyway.".

Don't get me wrong. It's okay to sometimes give up, especially when you notice that e.g. holding on to a person hurts you or constantly drains your energy without you ever really getting anywhere or the other person acknowledging your efforts.

On the other hand, you could also fight. For your dreams. For something you truly believe in. For something that you know will make life better for you.

Or even simpler. Fighting to win your life back. Fighting your way back to happiness. To confidence.

I am fighting, every day. Sometimes it's easier. Sometimes I just have to wake up and I'm in a good mood and I feel like I can take on the world with confidence. Like everything will be alright anyways. On these days, I just live my life like a normal 16-year-old would. Nothing too special about that, and the need and the aspiration to fight is tucked away in a far away corner of my brain.

Other days are not so simple. Bad days. Don't get me wrong, I hate them. I hate this empty feeling in my chest. I hate being close to crying. I hate listening to sad music on repeat. I hate overthinking. And over-worrying. I hate ranting to others about my feelings, but I feel like I have to or else I would combust of feelings.

But still, there's also some beauty in it in my opinion. Like I said, on usual weekdays I forget about my own inner strength, it's just something I don't think of.

However, on said bad days, it's pushed back into my mind.

I used to always let the emptiness fill me up on these days, indulging in it, feeling it up to my fingertips. A way out? Not possible.

Today, whenever I'm feeling down or sad, I am indeed still sad - because you need to feel the pain in order to heal - but at the same time I almost always immediately remember: "Hey, this feeling will pass again. There will be better days again. Don't give up yet. There's still so much beauty to see. So many amazing people to meet. So many emotions to be felt.". And even though that doesn't make all the bad feelings just fade away, it reminds me of my strength. I got through so many rainy days. I will get through this one, too. I will get up tomorrow, and make the best of the day. Because it CAN be a good day again, I WILL be able to laugh and to smile again. I just have to open myself up to it.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying this is the medicine to all your problems, especially if you have an mental illness. But a bit of optimism in some situations of your life doesn't hurt. It actually clears the way for some of the best memories you'll ever make.

And when you get back on experiencing more and more brighter days again, you may stop and look around and realize you actually found a life of your own along the way.

xxx Sarah