I like painting, but I’m in love with charcoal. Charcoal is bold and messy and not for people who color inside the lines. I feel most like myself sprawled out on the floor in my ripped up jeans, with the music volume set above my thoughts, and a blank sketch pad in front of me.
I feel creative in this moment. Passionate. Free. Peaceful. Alive.
As I blurred charcoal lines with my fingers yesterday, I had a thought: what if another person never makes me feel as good as I feel right now? I think it’s possible. Maybe even likely. I don’t know what it says about me if my happiness peaks come from… a blank sketch pad and a handful of charcoal pencils. Or a Bible and a yoga mat. Or listening to the click-click of my cute high heels as I prance down the street with an iced coffee in hand.
I advocate for love and relationships for other people… But I don’t know if that’s in my future. Everyone says I’ll get married and have kids someday, but what if I don’t? What if it’s always just me? Am I okay with that, or will I be missing out on something?
And what if I never feel as attached to a man as I feel attached to my passions? What if I’d rather take photographs than hold someone’s hand? What if I’d rather go for a run than go on a date? What if I’d rather write something beautiful than try to make myself look beautiful for another person? Does everyone feel this way at some point? If so, do they finally just settle or do they meet someone who silences the questions?
I’ve always thought that I should just walk my own path and if I eventually run into someone else on that same path… well, maybe we can walk together. But now I’m almost 24 and I’m feeling pressure to walk across the street and join everyone else. They keep telling me to settle down and become more “relationship-oriented”… But, while they’re talking, all I can think about is how much I want to paint my path pink.
The world doesn’t seem to have a place for girls who want pink sidewalks. I don’t know where to walk anymore.