Idealism and Reality

There is this soft, hanging feeling of discomfort for what I have realized as the North Carolina wind runs wildly through my unkempt hair. I’m sitting on the sidewalk curb right next to a coffeeshop, while it is still shaded, but the sun will soon reach me with the passing time; it is almost 1PM.

I am mentally preparing for my Alabama trip as I will be the sole person driving for the 9-10+ hour journey. I am assuming that I will be surrounded by mostly [loud] Hispanics, which are the complete opposite to my nature. My quietness is reflective of my discomfort and comfort I feel in situations, but I guess, I am mentally preparing for a weekend of conversations going “in circles” and not immediately to the point; naturally loud speaking voices, and getting looked at differently when they all see that “Doña Constanza” is actually a white, young-looking Chilean-American with a neutral Spanish/English accent. [Doña means Mrs and for me, it is a rather olden term; there is also Señora, but they all sound ugly to me].

That hanging feeling of discomfort, which I sadly cannot explain but as that, is one that makes me question this particular point in my life. This life, right now. This unknown and confusing moment where I am receiving therapy, working hard to better understand my insecurities and move past them. This moment where I deeply want to become a small entrepreneur and sell my art–to get my domain on SquareSpace, get a simple page up to show my pieces, and write the little reflections and insights that come to mind. That part of me that wants to set aside the nonprofit job [for now] and live a simpler, but richer life: in a tiny home or cabin, away from major distractions, and be able to live off my art. Die hard INFP wishes and desires.

The reality is crushing because it dictates that I cannot do that–no matter how much I am desperately trying to keep that dream alive. The reality is that I have an expensive burden to carry [my type one diabetes] and until I cannot feel safe and secure that those needs will be met without major complications, I cannot take that next step. I can try by risking myself and sharing my dreams, my art, my true self.

The reality is that scrolling through all of these beautiful images on Pinterest both appeal to me, but make me feel uncomfortable. Those images are both a reminder of what I want in life–it makes it easier to picture, but it also shows that I simply cannot attain it right now. On the other hand, they also serve as a visual motivator of what I want my life to look like {one day}. Looking through all those quotes, all those stupid succulent plants, and dreamy-like boho homes honestly does not serve me well at all. But I know that a large part of that comes into HOW I confront those discomforting feelings.

Alright, time to go.

The sun has caught up to me.

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