Mistake.

The more I think about it,the more I realize how people of this universe were wired to make the others doubt themselves. Rarely will you stumble upon someone who boosts your self-esteem or does wonders for your ego. Mostly people like to leave you bruised and in a state of agony. Are we all sadists then? Is that it? We derive pleasure not from our happy lives but from the crappy lives of others?

I think not. Good people exist. Good guys exist. Goodness exists. Or so I like to believe. I live this life like I do, a pessimist the girl whose glass is always half empty, the girl whose learnt to take the fall from everyone, the girl who believes it's going to stay like that forever.. waiting for someone to change my opinion about it all.. waiting for someone to prove me wrong, not by words but by evidence.

Yes I repeatedly write out my emotions on public forums. Do I enjoy sympathy? Or am I a mockery to myself? Actually it's neither. I know, I know most people discard me as a sob story but don't you think it takes something to pour everything out into ink? To expose yourself, to make yourself even more vulnerable to the world? To tell the them your exact weaknesses and to give a part of your soul to someone unknown?

Yes, it does. I don't do it for the comments. I don't do it for the sympathy. I don't even do it for the understanding actually, because all the people I love and care about and all the people who love and care about me don't need my posts to understand me.

I do it because I feel that someone, somewhere reading what I write, can connect to it because they have either gone through the exact same thing or are going through it right now, right this second. And I want them to know, they're not the only one.

So no, my notes and my posts are not a waste; not of time, nor of space. And neither am I. I am not the product of a ruptured condom or an unwanted pregnancy. I was a planned baby. My parents wanted me, when they did. They raised me to be an extra-ordinary person. They believed in me, and in their rearing. They knew that some day I was going to be someone they would be proud of. Someday, I would make them smile. Someday.

How many of you out there have felt out of place at some point of time in life? Felt unwanted? Aren't you tired of measuring yourself upto what people think? Aren't you done, trying to please people at your expense? Aren't you tired of wearing those heels just so that he notices you? Aren't you tired of dieting just so that they don't laugh at you? Aren't you tired of being somebody else? Aren't you tired, yet?

Of waking up and putting a pretense every morning? Of disguising the real you under a garb? Of hiding your feelings and emotions because you're afraid someone will step on them again? Aren't you tired, yet?

A lot of people have contributed in making me feel like crap about myself. They have termed me fake, they have made me out to be some sort of a waste. So much so that I have trouble sleeping at night, and difficulty in facing the mirror sometimes. There's a nagging feeling of self loathing at times which I have difficulty in getting rid of. (more on this later)

Anyway, moving on, this is to all the people who made me feel useless and not good enough. This is to all those scars that they left on me, physical and emotional. This is to tell them that no, I was not a mistake. You may have chosen to leave me behind and move on, you may have termed me as whatever in your head just to sleep peacefully at night but no, I was never a mistake.

I was the best thing that could have ever happened to you.
And if you were, and remain to be to blind to see it then yes, you can call it all a facade or mistake. But you know it, and so does your heart, and finally so do I, that it was anything but a mistake. I was anything but a mistake.