Unwrapping Adulthood.

Think of all the times you once thought you were right. And now think back to all of the times that you once knew you were right. In the moment of anger or bitterness, guilt or sheer stubbornness, there was no way it would or could have been otherwise.

You always know best apparently.

I have only really become an adult in the past year. There are sides of me that are so vehemently stubborn that I have to take days to process an argument, a mistake, a lack of communication… I have to strip back the bark of my adamancy to reach the root of the problem. And so often is has been me, I am the problem. And so often I have always blamed someone else.

There are very few people I have been able to admit my faults to. We see being right as a cloak of confidence. We see being right as a sign of self-assertiveness or self-confidence. Why are are we all so scared of being wrong? Surely there is no harm is admitting defeat? Surely we should take comfort in knowing that we really don’t know everything?

Why would we even want to?

How on earth could we even start to?!

The past year has shown me that I have been regularly wrong. Unpleasantly ungracious in reactions to hearing so, I found myself revelling in my own silence for hours to process what had actually happened. in being wrong, I have learnt I adore my own company. In learning to admit defeat, I have found myself craving to have more time to myself.

Close to a year ago I met someone who has taught me the value of being alone every single day. Even when there were moments of us refusing to back down and take off on our own highways, the art of self-reflection is one that can only be learnt when you are willing to be taught.

It’s a bit like love really, you cannot convince someone else to feel a certain way. You have to allow them the space to feel it alone. You cannot force someone to share your exact emotions. You cannot expect someone to consistently put you on a pedestal because, at some stage, you will need to get down on your own. You cannot hope that by promising the world, your life will suddenly become easy and endlessly loving. The reality is that the person who sets such high expectations will suffer the most… and that person is you.

I started writing an article about ‘what they don’t teach you about love’. I quickly realised that I don’t know anything about it. Not really anyway. I also realised that the word ‘they’ is misleading. Perhaps it should really say ‘what I haven’t taught myself about love’. But I don’t think I want any more lessons.

Being wrong is the best thing that has ever happened to me.

Humility suits everyone.

We never know best.

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