go on

I don’t dwell on missed opportunities.

Or at least I try not to.

I’ve always been a hard worker. The type who looks so chill and perhaps, the type who gets what she wants, just because. My sister always tells me that my pursuits look so easy to me. Lucky for me, she knows me and the hustles behind it. Behind the scenes, things are messy. It is always under construction with bits and pieces of something from somewhere. 

Behind every little milestone, is me struggling to make sense of the world around me. It is me thinking about how to attack a certain situation. I spend an inordinate amount of time breaking down a problem and providing countless solutions. Even then, I have always been that. Sometimes, I ponder why I must work double, or triple times harder than everyone else. I know I am competent, and maybe it comes with the territory, but it gets toasty (for lack of a better word).

Toasty because I seem to fight my way through everything. I must defy the odds just to get a spot. I must get through the rough to secure my shine. I have to go through the hole of the needle, EVERY. FREAKING. TIME. And when you’ve been doing it for a long time, alone… I’d say it gets tricky. I get tired of trying. Trying is fun when I get to choose it and not when I need to.

A few months ago, I was the frontrunner for a job. To get through that point, I have championed several exams and a nerve-wracking interview. I can confidently say that it was in the bag. I was the person about to get the job as they were just finalizing the offer. However, by some twist of horrible fate, I got dropped. I don’t want to get into the details as to why and how but one thing’s for sure, I was extremely disappointed by the turn of events.

When something like this happens, things just get the better of me. I get so tired of trying that I resort to quitting. At one point, I got to be in a mindset of questioning. “Why am I doing this?” “What’s the point in all of this?” Sometimes, it pivots to dropping everything, “F*ck it, I’m done!”

Yes, I get bitter. But then I think deeply about it.

Perhaps, it’s the universe telling me, there’s something better coming.

Historically, my silver lining in my attempts is the ability to somehow navigate through it and come out alive -- a winner, even. In my attempts, I learned so many things about myself. I learned to let go. I learned to choose what to think. I learned the degrees of bout or no bout at all. I learned to fight, unequivocally, or to take the first flight. Most importantly, I learned grace.

In whatever things were thrown at me, I learned to react with refinement. For example, when someone speaks ill against me, I don’t essentially cuss them. I feel sorry for them. It must have been sad that the only way to get ahead is for them to thump on someone. It's despairing to think about people destroying others just so they can build themselves. It’s the lowest of low. I don’t see power in that. I don’t see self-esteem either. I see the shit-scared faces of people who must've been neglected. Of course, you cannot spread love if you are devoid of it. To have that as a strategy to progress in life, stupidly believing it leads somewhere, it's regretful. Well, we all know how the story ALWAYS ends.

My goals are beyond me and there’s no stopping on that gas pedal for them to materialize. I may have missed opportunities even though God knows how hard I worked for them. However, I guess that’s exactly what I’m supposed to do. To try, just because I may have the ability to go far with them. 

I’m picking myself up, shaking the dust off, and moving forward with positivity that what is meant for me will always find me, with or without much effort.