16
Jan
12

A Life Worth Living

Believe that life is worth living and your belief will help create the fact.
~William James- American Philosopher

7 days ago, to the hour, I sat in an airport. Unseasonably warm for January, I gazed out at the tarmac of Logan Airport, and watched in wonder as the staff loaded luggage off and then on the airplane. Clutching to my lifeline, my phone, I quickly tweeted a somewhat witty joke about lobsters as I watched boxes upon boxes of live crustacean be roughly loaded into the airplane.

When I relive that moment in my head, I close my eyes. I can smell the disinfectant that permeated the airport. I can feel the rough, well-used faux leather of the seat and armrest. I can taste the remnants of the iced coffee I sucked down swiftly before heading through security, sweet and familiar. I can hear the hustle and bustle of every day travelers, the excitement of the newcomers, and the weary sighs of the veterans. And out on the tarmac, I can see the belly of the beast being stuffed full. The beast that will carry me to my new adventure, deliver me to my clean slate.

As the beast ripped and tore through the air as we took flight, I sat in my seat and thought to myself, “Will I land?”. I quickly push this thought out of my head, instead allowing logic to sweep in. “Of course I will land, I always do. I’m alive, I’m well, and if there is a God, he cannot punish me again. I don’t deserve that, and I will land.”

As my carrier floated through the clouds, I could feel pieces of myself falling away. Slicing through the metals and innards, and falling to the ground. The dirt and the grime of my life in Massachusetts, free-falling to the unsuspecting and clueless people below. Busy with their own lives, no one realizing the rebirth occurring 37,000 feet above their heads. Chunks of hurt and anguish, clumps of insecurities and pain, blocks of heartbreak and fear. They all lay in the mud, the grass, the lakes and ponds below.

As we descend to the ground, I feel my breath catch in my throat. This is it, this is my time. My lungs force the air through my throat, burning to fill themselves again. And they do. And, just like I told myself, God or not, I landed.

The past week has been exhilarating and amazing. I’m exploring my surroundings, but also exploring myself as well. A new me is pushing through my old skin, and I am nurturing her, and helping her seep through in the most natural way possible. I’m learning something new about myself everyday. My old habits are fading, and new ones are forming.

The old me would never enjoy an overcrowded night club, pulsating with sweaty bodies and deafening beats. Massachusetts me would have balked at the thought, and stayed home, curled up in front of the computer. If forced to go, I would be a wall-flower. Feeling ugly, feeling out-of-place. I would have been desperate for someone to find me worthy of a dance, worthy of a look. I would drown myself in booze, and cry heartbroken when I went home alone, no one to hold me and tell me how beautiful I’m not.

Saturday night, I was in that crowd of people. I was ONE of those sweaty bodies. Pushing even further beyond my old self, I danced. I danced without insecurity. I danced with a boy, not to seduce him into “loving” me, not to prove my worth, but JUST to dance. Just to have fun. I didn’t search for validation in the eyes of the people around me. Old me needed that to feel loved, to feel welcome, to feel like I belonged. New me just LIVED in the moment. I danced without fear, I drank without drowning, I enjoyed. And I loved. Not another person for validating me, but I loved… me.

I find facination in the simplest things. From losing my Voyeur* Virginity, to sitting at home on the couch, my friends, my new family beside me. Everything is new, and I can’t wait to discover more and more.

As the new me settles in, I can’t wait to learn more and more about her. I don’t yet know who I am, but instead of dying, I’m LIVING to find out. Because this is MY life, and I say it’s worth living. I just hope that she won’t shut up…

 

 

*- Voyeur is the club in downtown San Diego my friends and I went to on Saturday night. While my friends are regulars, it was my first time there, and my first time in a REAL night club. You can visit the Voyeur website by clicking here.

 

What I’m Listening To: “Marry the Night” by Lady Gaga ~ Amazon MP3

What I’m Reading: “The Last Living Slut: Born in Iran, Bred Backstage” by Roxana Shirazi ~ PaperbackKindle

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