Skip to main content

FINDING YOUR VOICE

Sometimes I worry about making others happy. Sometimes I worry about pleasing too much. I think that you only arrive at the perfect balance when you have found your voice. I have often spoken about finding your voice, but I don't think I really knew what I was talking about until this year.

I normally make really difficult decisions, but then live anxiety-ridden about the decision for months, possibly years, even when I know that there is no other decision I could arrive at given the information I had. My anxiety was really born out of not having much faith in myself. Someone once asked Dolly Parton if she had any regrets, she said she didn't have any because she always made the best decision she could at the time she made the decision. When she answered the question she was so sure about herself, not in an arrogant way, but in a confident way that the interviewer was taken aback. Now I know what she means, and understand how she felt. I have now arrived at that stage where I trust myself to make the right decision. With that new found faith in me comes a level of confidence and contentment.

In the past, I knew intellectually that I made the best decision, but emotionally, I doubted myself and that was really the source of the consternation. Now I don't doubt myself. I have made difficult decisions and I am not stressed about them. So now I think that finding your voice simply means that you have found faith in yourself.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I CAN'T PASS JUDGMENT ANYMORE

I know all of my friends are loving the ease and convenience of carrying books around on a Kindle, or whatever the gadget of the day is, but this move to electronic reading is really affecting my ability to judge others, yes, you heard me right-judging others is now difficult. It used to be that I could sit on the train and just by watching book covers, and their respective readers, I would get an idea of what books I might like. Now, everyone has a kindle and I can't really derive reading recommendations without appearing to be a stalker. But worse than that, new friendships are severely affected. I used to be able to walk into someone's house and look at their bookcase and know whether I should run the other way-now, the non-visibility of books makes identifying incompatibility so much more difficult. For example, if someone were to walk into my house, this is what they might see:   You would be correct in making quite a few assumptions about me based on this random

THE SCOTTSBORO BOYS: DE-ROMANTICIZING AMERICAN INSTITUTIONS

Historic marker and courthouse where the Scottsboro Trials were conducted I came to the United States as an overachieving teenager. I spent my first summer trying to catch up on all that was American History. I knew I would get along in Math and Sciences, but social studies and history would be what would take me from teacher's pet to just meh. I read voraciously. My concerns over history are obvious; I would be behind my classmates by years. Social Studies was a different beast. My country was known for its corruption, and the U.S. was known for the integrity of its institutions. American institutions were so strong and incorruptible, it gave the entire country free reign to advise and intervene in the governance of other countries, whether or not by invitation. I was excited to learn about this way, maybe I could figure out how to take it home one day. I read every word on every page in every textbook;  I thought books in the U.S were laid out the way ours were. In th

HOME WHEN LIFE IS MIGRATION

I often write about my experiences as an immigrant; a series of moments of flux and transition, amusement and discord, complete openness and heavy walls. There is very little that is fixed. As I grow older though, the notion of "home" becomes stronger and stronger, increasingly fixed and solid in some ways but geographically unstable and dispersed. As I grow older and older my pangs of homesickness are sharper-every once in a while I sit and can't stop myself from yearning for people and places that have nothing to do with each other. I now understand that stare my mom has when she is enjoying a very fresh and ripe fruit-she is here eating the fruit, but she is also "there" enjoying it. When I was young it would get on my nerves to see her disappear, but now, I respect her brief moment of meditation on time,  place and belonging. So when I say I am homesick-its not in quite the same way people who are born and raised in the same place speak of homesickness