Recently, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about everything… from what major I wish to pursue, people’s roles in my life, to whether or not cutting my hair short was the right decision. But mainly, I’ve been thinking about the person I want to be. The ideal version of myself and how she would react to certain situations, how her laugh sounds, how she dances in the rain without the slightest worry about her blowout. And I want to be her so badly. I want to light every room and every interaction as she does. I want to be good at everything she is, and I want to live every day the way she does: freely and open mindedly.
I want to be new Duriba.
Now, new Duriba isn’t the seventeen year old Beyonce reincarnation. Hair charcoal locks, like mine, are often disheveled. She too, tries to balance a pencil on her nose in an empty room. But she’s...different.
She wears her retainer every night, and wipes the toilet flush handle clean before and after every use, just because it’s the nice thing to do. She holds doors and buys strangers coffee. She forgives, but she never forgets. She paints with her little brother, and takes time out of every day to listen to a podcast and tell her parents she loves them. She loves learning new things...even calculus.
She gets the job done, and she prioritizes. She would never deliberately leave anyone out or cheat her way through a feat. Not only can she climb mountains, she can move mountains. She volunteers every weekend and buy her friends and family presents...because she just felt like it. She laughs loudly, and doesn’t spend more than 15 minutes a day looking herself in the mirror. Not because she’s unattractive, but because she couldn’t be bothered about a zit on her left cheek...she’s got a world to shake.
New Duriba isn’t just compassionate and sanguine though. She’s happy. And she takes that energy with her in her Marc Jacobs crossbody bag. She’s on the hunt for adventure and the thought of wind blowing through her hair sets her heart on fire. She wants to be the best humanitarian/feminist/muslim/human being she plausibly can. She wants nothing but to make a dent in the universe.
I want to be new Duriba.
Now, new Duriba isn’t the seventeen year old Beyonce reincarnation. Hair charcoal locks, like mine, are often disheveled. She too, tries to balance a pencil on her nose in an empty room. But she’s...different.
She wears her retainer every night, and wipes the toilet flush handle clean before and after every use, just because it’s the nice thing to do. She holds doors and buys strangers coffee. She forgives, but she never forgets. She paints with her little brother, and takes time out of every day to listen to a podcast and tell her parents she loves them. She loves learning new things...even calculus.
She gets the job done, and she prioritizes. She would never deliberately leave anyone out or cheat her way through a feat. Not only can she climb mountains, she can move mountains. She volunteers every weekend and buy her friends and family presents...because she just felt like it. She laughs loudly, and doesn’t spend more than 15 minutes a day looking herself in the mirror. Not because she’s unattractive, but because she couldn’t be bothered about a zit on her left cheek...she’s got a world to shake.
New Duriba isn’t just compassionate and sanguine though. She’s happy. And she takes that energy with her in her Marc Jacobs crossbody bag. She’s on the hunt for adventure and the thought of wind blowing through her hair sets her heart on fire. She wants to be the best humanitarian/feminist/muslim/human being she plausibly can. She wants nothing but to make a dent in the universe.
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