changing

I've been in a relationship for the past two years. Recently, I've noticed I mention my boyfriend fairly often, and many stories I tell now involve him in some way. I didn't really know what to think about that. I love him and we spend a lot of time together, so it's only natural that I talk about him, but that much? Can't I hold a conversation anymore without telling somebody about him?
N and I have known each other quite a while. So long that I can't remember the first time we met, or talked to each other, or anything. He's been a part of my life for years, so how come I just now started talking about him that much?
Well, of course, I also talk a lot about my cats. I love my cats, I have them around me most of the time, I like spending that time with them, and I think they're pretty funny. Staying with that comparison, I love N, I have him around me a lot, I like that, he's smart and funny and intelligent. So, obviously, I'll tell people jokes he told me, things we did together, just stuff that has to do with him. He said that, he did that, he made me feel loved. And that's the key point here, I feel like. I have known him for years, yes, but he's only recently become THAT important to me that I want to tell people THAT much about him, that I want people to know I love him.



That is not a bad thing, I realized. We still spend a lot of time apart, we still do stuff on our own, we have our own interests and hobbies and friends. He changed me, yes, but he did that before we were a couple too, and that doesn't mean that now I completely depend on him or that my personality has been shaped entirely by him. Change is good. Change means progress and learning.
I used to think if a significant other changed you a lot (or even just a little), that means you're pressuring yourself into an image of you they might have, that you're changing to benefit the other person and that you changing for a s.o. was a bad thing. I've realized that isn't true. I have had to be a lot more compassionate in the last year, a lot more understanding, a lot more communicating, a lot more honest. I would consider each and every of those traits a good one. Having N around me to love me and to be loved by me taught me quite a bit, and therefore changed the way I interact with people, how I express my emotions. I'm not a cynical asshole anymore when it comes to romantic things and relationships (at least as much as I used to be), I try to understand people's reasons for their actions more than before and I try and try and try to be a better person, for the sake of everybody who has to be around me on a regular basis.
Having someone in your life to talk about is actually quite a cool thing. It's a good thing. It does by no means mean my life and thoughts are consumed by just one person, it simpy shows how important he is to me. That's okay. I just needed to realize that.

chasing dreams

It's been a while, I know. I promised to post more, I know. But I do have a good reason: I've just started university in October, which has made the past few months quite stressful. I didn't want to say anything before it actually happened because I didn't want to jinx it, but now that I've succesfully completed six weeks and already made a few friends, I feel safe to tell you: for the next three years, I'll be studying Creative Writing and Cultural Journalism.

Writing has been the Big Dream since day one for me. I've never wanted to be anything but an author. This is a huge huge step towards that dream (and considering only 15 people have been accepted for this BA at my uni this year, it's also quite a big chance) and I am so so excited I get to take it.

Up to now, I love all my courses, I love the atmosphere and I have not been complaining too much. The people are really nice and I get along quite well with everybody (for probably the first time in my life), and once I've gotten used to everything I hope to be far more productive.

This is what I've always wanted to do. This is everything to me. This is my chance to make my dream come true and I'll be damned if I don't seize every little opportunity. So this, kind of, is a promise to myself: I'll make this work.

From the point in time I'm now in, writing this, I'll be moving tomorrow, and then hopefully I'll settle in a bit more and get used to the routine and I really hope I'll have more time and energy (and ideas) to write more on here. Two posts are done and just wait to be published, a winter books post is in the making (if you have any suggestions, then please, tell me!) and a few more are started and are now waiting for more inspiration to strike.

I hope you've been well!

Lots of love from

me, chasing my dream

turning eighteen

Two and a half months ago, I turned eighteen. Not only that, but the day before my birthday I had my graduation and my prom. It was a pretty busy weekend. Most of all, all those important life events were crammed into a span of maybe 36 hours. I was scared of all of them; I'm not too happy with my final grade, I was afraid I'd trip in my heels and fall down the stairs to the stage at my graduation, I was scared of that huge part of my life ending, I was scared of what's coming next. Prom was a similar issue: I'm not too fond of huge crowds and loud music and many people crammed into a small space. I wasn't keen on spending six+ hours in the company of people I didn't necessarily enjoy spending day after day in class with. And then midnight. The greatest horror of them all: my eighteenth birthday. The dreaded number.  The thing I have been most afraid of the past years.

I started crying the second my best friend hugged me and told me how much she loved me. I cried even more when my boyfriend started wiping the tears from my cheeks and kissing my face, and I couldn't stop when my friends lined up to say their lines and wish me a million things for my birthday.

It was all just a bit much, I think. The uncertainties of the months to come, the fear that I wouldn't be able to study something that really interested me and just becoming another empty shell, doing things I didn't enjoy in a place I didn't like, feeling like a waste of space and energy.

Now I know I will be able to study what I want to, but that fear remains: what now? What if the thing I always dreamed of will be just another disappointment, what if that's not what I'm supposed to do, what if I never find that thing?

The thought of now legally being an adult scares  me more than anything else. I'm responsible for myself now. I'm supposed to be able to take care of myself, and I'm afraid I don't know how. 

I'm currently in the progress of finding an apartment in the city I'll move to in autumn, and it's way more difficult than I imagined. I'm afraid I won't be able to find a place in time, I'm afraid I will miss appointments and lectures and deadlines if I'm supposed to remember all of it myself, if I alone am responsible for the work I do and how it turns out. I'm so afraid of failing, is what this is. The old, comfortable monster underneath my bed, mocking me and all my efforts. What will happen when I'm the one who has to make it go away?