Luminescence

Never the wiser;
I've no solace anymore -
And still, life goes on.

Light is pervasive,
And as such, I persevere;
Life knows of no bounds.

My meager haiku offering for the night; small, but succinct.
It's been awhile since my last update, and I've returned to clean up Introverted Tendencies a bit. Who I was before and who I am now have many contrasts, and so I'd like to reflect on that in my upcoming posts, as well as the overall site.

Yet, I'm happy to say I'm no longer afraid of the world. I feel a vibrant passion to live; a light within myself that cannot go out.

After all, life is the light that shines in all mankind.

For the first time in my life, I feel luminescent.

A Tourist’s Foliage

There’s a distinct crunch beneath my feet as I tread down the beaten and battered sidewalk. Tourists linger on every corner; I weave my way through them, smiling politely as I pass. One taps my shoulder, and I pivot around to face them. “Excuse me,” they say, looking quite lost, “ but do you happen to know where I could find <store>?”.

“Of course.” I smile at them. “Cross at the stoplight down there, and the second building on your left will be your destination.” They nod and hurry off in the direction I sent them. I continue on my way, noting each person I pass. Tourists are abound, taking pictures of the leaves on the trees, and the ones that have fallen to the ground - the ones I carelessly stepped on to get here. The locals brush past the sea of sightseers with scowls on their faces.

“They’re just leaves.” one local mutters under her breath; and, looking down, she’s correct. To the local community, the autumn foliage means little. We see it come and go annually, and are indifferent to the red, orange, and yellow tints the trees now possess. We have become accustomed to ignoring the enriched environment of our small town of Bennington. So then, what makes these dead leaves so captivating to the tourists? 

When I was a child, I was enamored by the beautiful rural environment of the town. The leaves captivated me as they do the tourists. The crunchy leaves were the best for making leaf piles to jump into. I admired the beautiful landscapes behind my house, as our green mountains flourished with color. I dreaded the coming winter, when all this beauty would fade.

Observing the tourists, they hold the same enamored look we all once did. They stop at every corner to admire a town that the locals consider mediocre at best. While the community within the town finds little in it, the communities that pervade from outside the town bring with them a sense of appreciation that was long lost on the community, and returns annually with the tourist’s foliage.

Self-Esteem

Self-esteem is an oddity of all proportions.
Mine didn't arise from starving myself years ago, nor over-exercising and restricting my diet.
It didn't arise from comparing myself to other people, or trying to obtain what was impossible.
It didn't arise from taking several pictures of myself, and going through each one, nitpicking every feature I hated about myself.
And it most certainly didn't arise from all the self-hatred I brooded upon, thinking it would be my motivation to lose weight.
All any of that did was make me feel awful about myself, and hurt others in the process.
Actual self-esteem came from acceptance of my imperfections - that they can most certainly be improved, but never perfected.
It came from being okay with not achieving the highest standards of beauty, and wearing make-up/exercising/wearing shorts for me, and not for other people. I do these things now because they make me feel good.
It's also amusing how well self-esteem can do for your appearance. Without as much stress, my acne has cleared up tenfold. It still persists from time to time, but on a much smaller scale than before. I sleep better at night, not worrying about my appearance, and the bags under my eyes have all but shrunk. I am happier on the inside, and it shows on the outside.

For once, I'm actually happy with who I am. And it feels better than starving or harming myself ever did.