Find a life of your own.

Vulnerability.

What do you think of when you read this word?

Weakness? Embarrassment? Wrong?

If yes, don't worry, you're not alone with this. In fact, our society is build up of many, many people (I'm not saying everyone's like that) who think that vulnerability is a flaw that they have to erase out of themselves. That showing emotions is bad. And not only do many prohibit themselves from doing so, no, they also look down on and laugh at people who cry often or don't have that "everything is fine, all the time" smile on their face.

Don't show your hurt. Pretend you don't care. Fake it until you make it. Those are sayings that are so known in our society that we never even question them anymore.

Let me give you a few examples of how this is noticeable.

So, there are a few girls in my grade who are really sensitive. Being like that, they cry a lot, I would even say at least once a week. And people judge them for it. They say "They're crying over nothing" or "They should get over themselves". And although them being emotional over some things might seem to be ridiculous to some of us, that does not mean it's our right to look down on them for it. We don't know what's going on in their lives.

Another example. Last year, one of the students at our school tragically died in an accident during our fall break. When school started again, the first day was a bit different but we still had lessons. Our maths teacher knew the student really well and he was terribly sad over the loss of him. And he started crying. I myself just felt really sorry for him but I was astonished when I talked to a "friend" of mine later who judged him for showing tears, saying that "Men should not cry". Why though? Why should men have to bottle their emotions up, destroying themselves in the process? Why are we so keen on demolishing female stereotypes while at the same time clinging to male stereotypes?

Lastly, in our last French lesson, I immediately noticed that our French teacher was kind of... sad, I think that would describe it best. When I walked home with my friend (who I really like actually but) she told me that she also saw our teacher downtown on Wednesday and that she was sitting in a cafe and crying and said "She also seems to be crying easily and a lot". She didn't even say it in a accusing tone but it immediately came across to me like that. Maybe because since I was little, I was shown by the media that women, nor men should show their tears, at least if they want to seem mature.

Crap, I say.

What's the point of "faking it until you make it"? The only thing that will happen is that you destroy yourself. Because at some time, your emotions will have to blow up and then you aren't capable of handling them anymore because they piled up to a huge mountain of pain.
Taylor Swift once said: "[talking about the song Clean] And it kind of talks about how if you really allow yourself to feel pain, I think maybe it’s easier to get past it. For most people that I’ve known who’ve fought through struggle, a lot them who have really just faced the pain head on have come out OK a lot faster than the ones who just pretended to be in denial of it."

I wish we would take that advice to heart. And I wish we would stop judging people for showing emotions, for being vulnerable. Because in the end, vulnerability is what makes us human the most. And we should not be ashamed to display our feelings.

Maybe vulnerability just helps you to grown and to eventually find a life of your own.

xxx Sarah

So this is it. The great two years mark. Wow. If anyone would've ever told me in 2014 I would be able to be content with my life for so long, I would've called them crazy. Me? The overthinker and overworrier? Content for two years? Not falling back into the black hole again? No way.

Yet here I am. Two Years. Writing those words down already feels weird.

One year ago, on this day, I talked about how it all came together. You can find the post here. You can also read up my story here.

Today, however, I wanted to focus on the aspects that have changed in my life. I think it's good to sometimes stop to think about how far you've come and what you achieved. For the sake of this, I started writing things down about a week ago that occurred to me, so that I wouldn't forget anything.

"When I was drowning, that's when I could finally breathe."

I'm not denying that up to today, I'm still shy, especially when it comes to situations in class (I'll talk about that later). But one thing that has drastically changed is the number of people I have the pleasure of calling my friends.
Often, when I'm walking home with someone or just making jokes in class or someone says or does something that shows that they genuinely care about me, I suddenly start thinking "Wow I'm so grateful for experiencing this.".
This actually happened just today, when I was about to do my presentation in French. You have to know that I am terrified right before talking in front of the class and my whole body is shaking etc. But what happened, and for me it's something I genuinely appreciate, is that people that have become my friends over the past few months, started cheering me on. They were like "Sarah you can do this!" or "Don't be nervous, you'll be great!". And although that didn't stop my hand from shaking, it soothed my soul. These people are supporting me, no matter if I'm not perfect. And that is one of the greatest things I ever got to experience in my life.
And as I said, I get along really well with a lot of people of my grade. Some even invited me to a party! This is truly insane. I'm not at the same level of people I call friends as I was before we moved here. And that is not to say that I'm counting numbers and measuring my self worth by it, but that it shows how far I've come. But I don't want it to be like before. This time I'll be more empathetic and kind and loving. Everyone deserves kindness.

"When the butterflies turned to dust, that covered my whole room."

One thing I just recently noticed is that I care so little about other people's (negative) opinion about me anymore. Once, Taylor said during one of her clean speeches that "you're not the opinion of someone who doesn't know about you or cares about you." and I've really taken this advice to heart. Don't get me wrong, I still notice when people clearly don't like me, but it doesn't clatter up my day or my entire week if they don't. I'm still overthinking a lot but this fear of being rejected by people I barely know has diminished so much that I don't even think about it anymore.

"Just because you're clean don't mean you don't miss it."

I still have some bad days. They usually happen during my PMS but I don't want to blame all of it on my body because I know that the reasons why I am sad are still valid. My internet best friend (who also reads this blog - hi!) once told me that during bullying, there are certain connections that are formed in our brain and that's why I - and she, too - are sometimes having those down days.
But I'm able to handle it. I either write a blog post or talk about it on tumblr and you guys always cheer me up when I'm down. Another thing I am incredible thankful for,

"I screamed so loud but no one heard a thing."

I'm still a bit fed up with what people expect of me. Because I come across as shy as you first get to know me, I sometimes lock myself into that role and act like it because I feel like this is what people WANT to see me be like in some sort of weird way. But I'm getting there, slowly, but I do.
I started participating in French and in English, while I could barely raise my hand not that long ago. And even if no one else besides me sees my process because the steps are so little, I won't stop. And if I'm doubting that, you are one of the first ones to remember me of my worth. Thank you.

"Now that I'm clean, I'll never gonna risk it. I think I am finally clean."

I am fascinated with the line "It was the night things changed; can you see it now?" during Change (hence my tumblr blog title). Because even though two years ago I barely noticed anything had changed, I do now. And I'm incredibly thankful for this journey.

I won't quit. I want to make Taylor and most importantly myself proud.

This is a reminder for each and everyone of you. You are loved and important. You can get through this dark time of your life. The strength has always been within you, even if you can barely recognize the light that's a part of your every fiber being.

Keep going. And trust your heart.

And most importantly, thank you. For liking my posts when I was sad, for sending me messages - anon or not - or for saying that you are proud of me. You are as much of a part of this journey as I am.

And Taylor - never ever stop being you. You are an inspiration for so many people. I will never not love you, I pinky promise.

Finding a life of my own,

xxx Sarah

I just got home from my gymnastics class. Today, we had to try out doing a front handspring and we were supposed to try that out on the ground first. So our teacher asks "Who wants to start?" and as always, none of us made a move. So she was like "Oh Sarah! Do you want to try it out?". I did in the end but just because I felt like I had to do it. Then we went on to practice it on the trampoline (while our lesson was already almost over) and again, she asked me to do it. And I don't know, it just kinda caught me off guard as I don't see myself as a really good gymnast actually and half of the lessons I catch myself being like "Oh, I don't think I'm able to do this." or "You are way better at this than I am!".

Another thing that I've noticed lately is that this boy I know may or may not have a crush on me. I'm not saying that he actually does because I'm usually terrible at reading the signs but just the possibility immediately made me think "Oh, he deserves better than me, like this terrible awkward me, that me that seems to always mix things up or does things wrong." instead of going like "Well, I'll just tell him that I don't have any feelings for him if he ever asks me.", something a usual human being would do.

So all of it got me thinking if I still don't see myself as worthy of love or worthy at being one of the best at something.

Don't get me wrong, of course I know that I, like every human on this planet, is worthy of love and joy and happiness. I know this fact. But it's a whole other thing to let it settle in your bones, to feel it with every ounce of your being.

Maybe it all relates back to the time I was bullied. I think that constantly getting the feeling that you're worthless or just experiencing that you're worth nothing more than snickering or whispers changes you forever. You just accepted it as the truth, and getting out of it seems nearly impossible, even when you're feeling better again, when you're finally clean.

Sometimes I feel like I'm constantly on the edge of falling back into that black hole of self-loathing and hate while the brighter side just seems to be hidden. And it's not necessarily because I had a bad day, it actually appears to me more when I'm having a pretty normal day. It's as if the darkness lures beneath my very skin.

And when I get confronted with expectations - which happens a lot because I'm a quite good student - I just feel helpless or like I don't deserve the recognition I'm getting.

For instance, in our last politics exam, I had the best mark of our whole grade. As rewarding as it first feels, it got me panicking shortly after when I realized that our teacher now expects me to do just as well in our next exam (which is in one week). To illustrate that, my thoughts practically look like this "Why does my teacher even like me? I'm not deserving of that. I'm not good at politics, I'm just studying well and then I've got a bit of luck and stuff like in the first exam happen. But I know this luck won't last." (amplified by the feeling that I'm actually dumb).

It sounds wrong, I know. Well, I certainly know that feeling this way is wrong. But that doesn't mean that I'm just able to get better right away. You can't just delete the awareness that you're worthless.

But maybe you can try, step by step. And maybe I'll have climbed this mountain one day. And I'll realize that along the way, I found a life of my own.

xxx Sarah

Yesterday I hung out with some people I don't really know that well but it was sort of a group thing I guess. So as always, there were those that are just a bit more than complete strangers to me so naturally I kept quiet for most of the evening as I just don't immediately feel comfortable around new people.

Anyways, they were talking about rumors concerning who's flirting with who in the group and a bunch of them was getting ready to go off to that party I'm pretty sure at least half of my grade also went to. And as per usual, it got me thinking.

A) Maybe I'm not ready for love yet. I already mentioned this quite a few times, not necessarily on here but more on my tumblr. I don't know, like the way people my age handle relationships is just not how I would deal with it and maybe that's a bit of my own fault. Like what if I just have way too high expectations when it comes to love?

B) Comparing myself to others (I know, I know, you shouldn't ever do this but it's hard to stop yourself right), I am in fact a pretty boring person. I like being at home, I get nearly all my school work done and I'm a pretty ambitious student, I like reading and listening to music on my own. I don't like partying, I mean I still want to try it out some time but I feel like it won't be something that'll fulfill my life like it does to most of my peers (actually last time I wanted to go, I had a pretty sort of panic attack that ended up resulting in a post on here but well... it just happens). I also spend a lot of time thinking about stuff so you'd think I would get along well with people who are into philosophy for example but I just can't voice my thoughts at all, all I'm able to do is write them down as you see on here. Moreover, I enjoy doing child-like things like singing and dancing and watching cheesy movies and crying a bit (or even better: watching Disney movies and crying a lot).

So anyways, I felt a bit... let's say weird yesterday and before I went to bed, I made the decision to post something on here with the title "what it's like being boring".

Wait, you might say. But this isn't the actual title.

You're right. I changed it up a bit.

The reason for that is that I'm currently catching up on the YouTube videos I missed, and I saw that Savannah Brown (I talked about her before on here) uploaded a new poem so naturally, I got really excited and clicked on it right away. The title was "couldn't care more" and as I was listening to it, I realized more and more that she's talking exactly about the issue I had just the day before.

How I felt like a weirdo and what others might call a boring person. And the words started shifting something inside me somehow. It's hard to describe, you just have to listen to it.

But I wanted to close this post with some of the last lines of her poem.

"the cool kids love ferociously
stay up late because they want it just right
they are hungry for more and will not be silenced
the cool kids care about people. about poetry. about science. about art
they’re not embarrassed of the moments that make their nerves burn
the cool kids are not ashamed that they are different; they shout it"

A few weeks ago, I was in the cafeteria of our school during lunch break. I've just gone to the bathroom and when I came back, a friend of mine sat on my chair. Being as annoying as I sometimes am, I told her to move and another friend was like "Sarah, you're always worrying to much about nothing!"

Do you ever have one of these days on which the darkness creeps slowly from your fingertips to your arms and shoulders only to heavily rest on your lungs and your chest? It's a day like that for me. I don't know what really triggered me - maybe all my teachers telling me "wow I didn't know you could speak so loud! Why aren't you like that in class?!" after our theatre play - but all of my past memories started swelling up inside of me - they already did for a long time. Maybe this is the day to let it all out. The sadness I once felt every day for two years. It feels right. Maybe, I thought, maybe I could share my story on my blog, maybe I can inspire, encourage others to find a light out of the darkness, even if it perhaps never goes away. The reason why I intentionally made this blog.

This is my story.

The great downfall started when I was 13. I just hit puberty and I wanted to be liked by everyone - and I was, especially in that little town I grew up in. We moved away two years ago at this point.

The new school made it seem harder for me. All the girls were perfectly dressed up and so much prettier than me. They intimidated me. Still, I tried to become friends with them but we seemed to be so different, we didn't add up. I blamed it on myself.

On this specific day when I was thirteen - I think it was at the end of January, a Friday - I was happy and cheerful. Finally I got closer to someone in my class and we hung out the day before. She told me how she thinks a certain boy has a crush on me, I was excited. What she also told me was that she was gonna talk to our teacher because some of the girls in my class said they didn't feel well during out French lesson but instead of going outside, they smoked on the toilet. I told that girl she was right to tell the teachers about them.

So she did. In the first break she all let it out, came back and I still thought everything was fine. Oh, how wrong I were. After the second break, during which my classmates got called in because of this specific event, they went back to class and started speculating who could've told the teachers. I heard them whispering, making several suggestions. I tried to smile at them, as a sign of telling them "hey I wasn't the one, you're safe" but they ended up sticking with me. I was pretty bold, loud and extroverted, a good student and I was the one who raised her hand so often in class that the teachers were annoyed by it or said "does anyone else know the answer besides Sarah?". I also voiced my opinion. Maybe this was the reason why they picked on me. Maybe it wasn't. I will never find out.

In the next lesson, we had this subject that some of our grade, including me, did voluntarily, called "English conversation". I loved it as I loved English. I was and still am totally fascinated by this language. As I entered the room, a girl from another class asked me about the incident with the girls. I told her the truth, not knowing that anyone could ever use that against me.

This lesson, we had to write down some keywords to talk about ourselves. I already didn't feel very well because of the looks I could feel stinging down my spine. But I was still positive though. They can't actually believe it was me, can they?

The next thing I know is that this boy, oh this boy who then became my worst enemy, had to pick someone to read his text and he picked me. Don't get me wrong, I know it's not something that should affect you that much, but we had never talked to each other and I usually don't ever get picked for something like that.

My lungs started swelling up. I told the teacher I wasn't done yet. I saw the boy's mean smile. I tried drawing suns on my friends sheet to stop myself from crying in front of the whole class.

After the lesson, I just wanted to run straight home, lie down in my bed and cry for hours on end. I didn't want them to confront me because I was scared of what they would be capable of doing. But they got me in their circle before I could run away. They asked me "Sarah was it you who told the teachers?". I said "No. I know who did it but it wasn't me.". I hoped that was it. Still I cried all the way home.

I was scared of Monday. Well that doesn't exactly fit; I was terrified. For the first time in my life thinking of school gave me panic attacks, something I was supposed to get used to for the next 1 1/2 years. I went, still. I would never skip school for the sake of my mental health. I am a good student.

When I walked down the hallway, I could hear the whispers. "Hey that's the girl who told the teachers" "I hate her.". The laughs. I looked at the ground for the rest of the day, hoping if I could make myself as small as possible I would eventually just disappear. But of course I didn't.

The lessons were even more brutal. From raising my hand all the time, I decided to shrink, put my long hair in front of my face, hoping to hide my sadness and my anxiety. "The teachers will notice", i thought "They will ask me about it, I'll tell them and the they'll fix this.". They didn't.

This went on and on. Every day was my personal hell. I didn't want to live anymore. I wanted to kill this emptiness inside of me but I didn't know how and I couldn't ask anyone about it. There were even more snark remarks, mean comments hidden behind normal words so that the teachers wouldn't notice. Whispers. Laughs. Whispers. Laughs. I just wanted to scream GET OUT OF MY FREAKING HEAD PLEASE BE SILENT. Of course I didn't.

One night, I pulled the last bits of my courage together and told my mum I wanted to switch classes, I didn't tell her why but she started talking to our headmaster and all that kind of stuff.

Then it was the last week before the summer break. We did a short class trip; on the train ride home I sat isolated in a different part of the train, listening to sad music. Still, I was hoping, maybe fate is on my side, maybe tomorrow - the last day of school when we were supposed to find out - our headmaster told me, it was possible to switch classes.

On that day, I just completely zoomed out. maybe this will be the last time I'll ever have to endure this. I went to our headmaster. My heart raced. And then he said it. "Yes, you'll be in the other class next year.". I was relieved.

Two days before the school term started, my nightmares started as well. To say the least, I nearly couldn't sleep at all in 2013. Every night I went to my parents' bed and cried myself to sleep.

Anyways, on that day I started thinking "What if the new people don't accept me? They have heard the rumors, too. They'll hate me."

Mind you, the first day of school eventually wasn't that bad but I couldn't turn off my bad habits. I thought everyone was talking and laughing about me. I sank into my chair again, hiding myself away.

That year, teachers would tell my mum or me that I should speak up or even participate. What they didn't notice was that I just couldn't, like what if people will judge me? What if I say something wrong? I also started shivering hard out of nowhere during school days, for no apparent reason at all.

Flash forward to January 2014. At that point I have told some of my new found "friends" how it really went down in 2013. They believed me. But they were angry. They thought it was the fault of the actual girl that did it. They wanted to tell everybody. But I stopped them from doing so. I gave my then-friend a promise to never tell anyone about it, and I certainly won't tell the whole school. People would be cruel to her. She doesn't deserve it. So I took the weight on me.

On that day however, another girl - a really self-conscious one - was sitting on our bench in sport and for a tiny moment I told my friend she could tell her. She did. Afterward people were hardly discussing the subject in the changing room. I zoomed out. This had nothing to do with me.

The girls of my old class came to me and apologized. Of course I accepted, but my heard denied. All along an apology was all I wanted but couldn't they see how they destroyed me? How they broke me? When my friends asked me why I was so little euphoric I told them about how when you throw a stone into the water, many waves follow and you can't control them. And I was sure they waves will hit me again one way or another, no matter if I actually was the one to blame or not.

At that time, the 1989 world tour started. I soaked in Taylor's words. I cried happily when she followed me. I also cried when I drew a picture of Clean while simultaneously telling my friend how I actually felt when the rumors started, how I didn't want to exist anymore. Every time I look at that drawing I remember Clean playing in the background while my tears splashed on the page.

I went to the 1989 tour in Cologne when Taylor said "Everyone here has had rumors spread about them that weren't true, whether it was in the school hallways or on the cover of a tabloid magazine". I don't know if she actually read my post about everything that day because I reblogged it countless times. But that didn't matter. This sentence really got me because not only did one of the biggest superstars struggle with what I went through but there was also a bunch of people with me in this huge hall that understand me. Wow.

I became clean. I got better each day, making small steps, one at a time. I started with my perception of myself and then, when I got there, letting it take over how I acted around others.

Still, on some days like today, I feel sad. Teachers still call me shy. They still say I should participate more. Students do, too. It's as if for all of them my process is worth nothing or as if they're shutting their eyes of it. And then I start thinking "Why am I still fighting? Nobody cares anyway and I'll probably never reach the top of the mountain.". You just feel helpless and trapped.

And here I am today, not feeling to good to be quite honest with you but I just have to believe in that spark inside of me because this is the only thing that will never die.

If you are or were in a similar situation as I were, keep going. Keep going. You will make it through. And maybe along the way, we can help each other out.

Find a life of your own.

xxx Sarah

As you may - or may not - I posted these exact words (from the title) late at night yesterday. Why? Because again, I had a moment yesterday when I thought I hit another crossroad.

I already talked about this on here, but there was this boy a few years ago with whom I felt a really strong connection with. But he had to leave and flash forward to today, he has a girlfriend now. Sounds like it was so long ago that it couldn't possibly affect me in any way anymore because, well, it ended long ago. However, every time I meet or talk to a boy, I find myself comparing them to him and thinking, I could never be in a relationship with that person (if! this someone liked me romantically but that's another question lol) because they can't make me feel the way I felt with him. Like everything's possible. Like we were meant to be in each others' lives.

His face seems to creep up to me in the moments when I feel most lonely. I wonder "What could I have done differently? Why did fate tear us apart?" and most of all I think "What if I never find anyone like him ever again?". It's a deep hidden fear within me.

Recently I also discovered that the reason why my OTP (#Lutteo from Soy Luna) is my OTP and quite simply it's because that could've been us. The whole situation and the personalities remind me of us two and as much as I rejoice in that series, I also feel a bit of sadness coming along with it.

Maybe I'm chasing a ghost. Maybe I'm making the whole thing better than it actually was. I really don't know. All I know is that I miss him and I hate the way how destiny let him into my life at the worst time possible. Timing is a terrible, terrible thing.

I also know that he - if he realizes it or not - still thinks of me, too. I see it in the way his eyes search for me at our special place, at our special time. I search for him too as if only seeing each other makes the other person feel at ease again.

Maybe we were never meant to be together.

Yesterday I felt like I finally have to make a decision, that I really have to let him go to make space for someone new in my life. But I don't feel ready, I don't want to let him, let us go. As much as I know that it is not healthy to hold on to someone so tightly, I can't help myself.

Usually letting go happens just with some time. But with him, time just seems to make things worse. I wish I knew how to move on somehow, even if it hurts.

I hope he'll find a life of his own without me and that he thinks of me sometimes as a happy memory, as someone that was a big part of his life, if only just for so little time.

xxx Sarah