Identical to the open word document before me, the wall in front of me is blank. As I perch myself up against a pillow with fingers scampering over the keyboard then backspacing not long after, I give up. As I take to exit and give my mind capsule some rest, a message pops up. “Save changes?’ it asks, and I pause for a moment. “Change” I mumble to myself, now sitting up with my spine erect.
I have always been a strong believer in three things: karma, pumpkin flavored anything, and the concept that people, however terrible, always possess the tendency to change at any given moment. Although there are many refutations to each and every one of these components, I am readily available to defend each one, as its realization to me has been a journey that has modified my point of view at one point or another.
I will begin by addressing that each and every person in the world has the potential to change, and this change is--however painful--a good thing. Because without change, how would we have butterflies?
As I look around my world, I can’t help but notice all the modification.
Autumn leaves wilt away to make room for the cold winter, a favorite bedtime read becomes a bookshelf warmer, plans to start a juice cleanse cripple to Voodoo doughnuts and reruns of The Big Bang Theory.
A lot changes. Seasons, opinions, preferences, people. One day, you’ll be out on a stroll at sunset, or maybe just laying in bed, and it’ll hit you like the Quan.
One day, you’ll be shrieking over One Direction’s latest albums with your best friend, the next day they’ve decided to move on to the Janoskians (who outlasted who?!). Or maybe the two of you will abandon your shared affection altogether: you’ll pursue meditative pop and coconut water and they’ll wear smoky eye shadow everywhere and head bang to Metallica. You’ll stop texting one another. You’ll have nothing in common. And the worst of all? Although you’ll miss it, neither of you will mind it.
I fondly remember when my older sister was growing into her teenage skin. I remember trailing behind her as a confused eleven year old, perplexed to as of why she no longer wanted to play with dolls or watch the latest episode of Spongebob beside me. When I questioned my sweet mother, she laughed and explained that my sister was simply getting older, and that she was changing. I didn’t understand it then, and maybe I’m still not so sure now.
But today, as I sit cradled on a cold leather sofa in an empty living room sipping milk from an empty cereal bowl, the puzzle pieces fit. It’s the reason you don’t want to do today what you lived for yesterday, and it’s why you can’t decide who to root for in the upcoming elections. Today, I realize that there isn’t an explanation besides the fact that people change. Instead of forcing ourselves to hold tight to our beliefs, we should adapt and accept what our heart whispers, as this is our ultimate truth.
If you ever feel like a handbag “isn’t you” but feel an emotional urge to buy it, by all means do. Life isn’t about squeezing yourself into a mold of others’ perceptions and ideas of you: it's about constantly restructuring that mold. Terminating it altogether so that nobody can predict your next move. Because you’re not figured out. You’re unprecedented and exceptional: built on your own whims and desires. You’re a person, and your experiences have taught you new things and challenged the way you think and what you believe in.
So don’t be afraid to change your opinions. It doesn’t make you indecisive or confused. It makes you human, eager to learn new things and shift your view to grey in a world that demands we see it in black and white.