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Tuesday, August 29, 2017

Life is Hard (I'm Getting Over It)

Life is hard.

For as long as I can remember, that phrase has been my parents’ go-to response every time my sisters or I complained about a chore or cried about a grade or tried to get out of an event.

“I can’t do physics, it’s too hard!”

“Yeah, well, life is hard, kid. Get over it.”

At the time, I didn’t appreciate the sentiment and its ability to dismiss whatever I was feeling in favor of working through the problem to find the solution. And to be honest, I still don’t really like it.

Life is hard. I don’t think, as kids, we can appreciate the weight of this fact that our parents and elders toss around so haphazardly. Physics is hard, sure. Running 3.1 miles in the August heat is difficult, yes. And I maintain that folding a fitted sheet is a task that can only be accomplished through sheer black magic. But none of those things are essential – despite my mom’s frustration, I could go on living my entire life and never fold a fitted sheet.

I cannot, however, go on living and not…well…live. And yet, at its very core, this thing called existence can feel damn near impossible sometimes. The present demands to be seen and felt and dealt with constantly, and yet I find myself drawn to a preoccupation with an intense ache for the past, as though wanting it enough can bring back easier times and free me from the trials of the present.

I was active in Campus Ministry at a Catholic university for 5 years, so I’ve heard the phrase “we are all beautifully broken” more times than I can count. But it wasn’t until I had graduated and tried to move into “real life” that I truly appreciated what that means. Post-grad life has shown me summarily that whatever else I am, I am most definitely broken. I have been cast out into the world, ejected from the structures and families that helped me feel safe for the majority of my life, and the ground has shifted under my feet. I have wallowed, I have cried, I have screamed into the void, I have taken up and dropped more hobbies than I can count in the 4 short months that have passed since my graduation, but none of these things have served to patch me back together.

Life is hard. Life in college was hard, and life before college was hard, and so far life after college has been the most difficult time yet. But I am writing this post to remind myself that I have always made it through.

When I look back on the fear I felt as I stood, trembling, in the bathroom contemplating ditching out on the college job interview that I couldn’t yet know would change my life, I don’t regret doing the difficult thing and walking in to the room, instead of running away from it. When I remember how difficult it was for freshman me to step out of my dorm room and go out to a social event with people I didn’t know, I don’t for a second wish that I had stayed inside in my pajamas binge-watching The Office and eating trail mix. At the time, those things felt impossible. And yet I did them. I trusted that good would come from the pain, and I chose to suck it up, kid. And the result was a chain reaction of things more beautiful than I ever could have imagined.


Life right now just feels hard. And I am not by any stretch claiming to have a remedy for that. The aching is still present every day, and maybe it always will be. Five years ago, I thought life was always going to be bland and scary and terrible and I had accepted that fate for myself when suddenly life came around and showed me the beauty that can be. Maybe I’ve lost a lot of that perspective since then, and I've forgotten to look for the beauty in the brokenness. But I will still continue to choose to do the things that feel impossible, because although this life is hard, it is ridiculously, unceasingly, wonderfully made and beautifully broken, and I choose to stay and see every second of it.

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