I spent so many years being so many different versions of myself. I’ve broken myself into so many pieces, that now when I can finally put myself back together, I’ve lost pieces and feel incomplete. I was one Chelsea at my dad’s, I was a different Chelsea at my Mom’s. I was a different Chelsea with my Stepdad’s family, and eventually a different Chelsea with my Stepmom’s family. And a whole different Chelsea at school.
And now at 24 years, I don’t think I know who I actually am. Each Chelsea was different. In how I acted, what I was allowed to like and do. Some things I had to pretend to enjoy. Somethings ruined for me now that I can choose to partake in them. So many things I missed out on because it didn’t work for one version of Chelsea, so no Chelsea was allowed to it.
I’ve been spending so many months this last year or so, trying to find things to fill in those broken and lost parts of me. Trying things I can finally indulge in. Trying to forget what it was that prevented me before.
Hell, even the way I dress. That one maybe hasn’t changed so drastically, but enough for me to notice it. And this has also been influenced by growing up and working in a more professional setting. But I also feel slightly more comfortable wearing them. No incessant bullying or criticizing from someone who is only supposed to encourage. No subtle jabs at my weight by purposely buying me clothes two sizes too small.
My life is so different, yet so similar. Because now, instead of other’s restrictions I have to live by, it’s my own. Self-imposed rules and regulations. I can’t do that, I have to do this. I am supposed to be free now, but I locked myself into this cage. And threw the key so far away.
After I realized… After I admitted to myself that this was all my own doing, it should have been easier to find a way to change it. But I’m so far down the hole I don’t see any way out. At least not a way out any time soon.
24 years I’ve been so many different versions of myself. 24 years I’ve been broken into different pieces. 24 years I’ve spent pretending to be different versions of myself.
It’ll involve a lot of learning. And I’m sure I’ll be crying a lot. Some of it will be good though. Learning what I really like and what I really love. Doing things that I maybe didn’t think I could or should do before.
Next year I am going to be 25 (duh.) and I want to live differently. I want to live not being afraid and cautious about what other people think about me. I want to me. I want to be Chelsea.