I am slowly learning what it means to be okay.
It seemed to be an unfading happiness, a joy that tears could never squelch. An inextinguishable self-love. An indubitably fulfilling life.
Okay was a panacea, a remedy for every conceivable personal ill. A life devoid of problems, mental roadblocks, and perpetual sadness. It was health. It was love. It was perfection. It was a journey; extraordinarily simplistic at first appearance, but nearly impossible to reach.
The seemingly perfect okay I sought was nothing but a fantasy, an ideal conceptualization awash in a haze of temptingly alluring lies. I am slowly discovering that being okay is an art form, a balancing act, a dance, a marriage of joy and melancholy.
Its no longer feeling numb in the wake of lifes problems, but never being fully able to reach the glowing warmth of true happiness. Its an ember that gradually warms the heart but gradually flickers out as the sadness returns to envelop your mind.
Its refusing to hate your body and your mind, but not fully loving yourself. Its looking in the mirror, acknowledging your appearance and walking away as you valiantly fight off the negative thoughts that are bound to invade your mind and refuse to let go.
Its wondering if you should leave your job, but convincing yourself to stay. Its resolving to make the most of your circumstances instead of seeking a new path. Its accepting your decision not to move forward without true happiness, but without regret.
Its resigning yourself to a life of almost relationships. Its constantly bouncing between single and its complicated without constantly thinking about finding the one. Its seeing an influx of engagements and marriages, but no longer wondering when your will find your forever person.
Its acknowledging that your life proceeds on its own timeline. Its no longer wishing that you were somewhere else in life, even though you dont love where you currently stand. Its attempting not to compare yourself to others, even if you dont always succeed.
Its complacency. Its resignation. Its acceptance.
Its feeling caught in a hazy limbo between who you are and who you could become, not seeking out change, but no longer feeling completely numb as you ponder your life choices. Its feeling joy and sadness in tandem as you reflect on your life. Its experiencing the contentment that arrives after tremendous pain, the simple sparks of emotion that remind you that you are sentient.
Being okay is embracing the monotony inherent in living. Being okay is knowing that no matter where you are or how you feel, you are enough.