The Truth

You want to know who I am? A year ago, this would have been my answer:

The truth is that I don’t even know. Am I even anything? Do I mean anything to anyone? I certainly don’t understand why I exist, why anyone with half a brain would like me. I am nothing. I mean nothing. I am worth nothing.

These were the exact words scrambled through my journal in the darkest depths of my suffering. And honestly, I could pretend that my current thoughts are millions of miles away from these…. but, they’re not. This is the truth. I did not want to admit that I felt worthless because then I would be weak. I would be vulnerable. I would be a brat because I have parents who care for me unconditionally. I have a roof to shelter me from cold, winter nights. I have friends who have visited me in my darkest times. So I have no right to feel like that, right? Why should I feel bad for my worthless self when I've witnessed orphans in Klong Toey starving for love? I think I’ve only been asked this a thousand times (and mostly from myself). But I’ve come to realize—fairly recently—that sometimes it is ok to be self-serving. Sometimes it is ok to think about yourself, to care for yourself. You should not abuse and attack yourself in the process. You matter too. You may have loving parents, a place to call home, and friends who you can count on through the good and the bad, but that does not mean you are fine. It only took me my 16 years of life to learn this. I want all of you to know that what you are feeling is ok. Don’t shame yourselves for being you. The truth is that you matter too. The truth is that you can think about yourself without being “selfish.” This is a truth. This is the truth.