Here is a little ramble I once wrote at 1am, I guess it is very bitty and may not make sense in some parts, but I think there's some important messages in here (I hope you agree!!). 

Believing in myself is something that I find almost impossible. When times get hard and it seems as though the walls inside my being are crashing down, I can’t help but question my own capabilities and wonder how different things would be if only I was more intelligent, more beautiful or even more interesting. The question 'am I good enough' is one that I find whirling round my brain repeatedly, crushing down my confidence little by little each time. Yet when I have time to think about it, I realise that there is no such thing as 'good enough' - in every context, there is always going to be someone 'better' than you ... but why does that feel like a competition? 

I've never been one of those people who are top of the class, definitely not the best sports player, or even won a competition before (except from a short story one, woo!). Being 'good enough' isn't a measure that I'm forcing other people to base me off, it's more about how I see myself. I write in my blogs about not caring what people think and, trust me, that is the truth - yet I'm still trying to find a way of not being so bloody hard on myself. I'm constantly finding things that I've done wrong or that I need to improve on, yet fail to celebrate the achievements I have to my name. 

I think when difficulty strikes, this is the easy way out. To believe in yourself is something that people, and of course I’m more biased towards teenagers (because I am one), find especially challenging - and I really wish I knew why. I think, again stereotypically, that something this worth is based on is purely to do with image, and the way that we look. There's so much pressure nowadays to look a certain way - all primped and 'flawless', and it really does act as such a massive factor in the way that we feel about ourselves. 

We all have this idea of ‘perfection’ which is so utterly ridiculous - because there is no such thing! If you ask someone to define perfect, then I can guarantee that they won’t be able to conjure up the words to explain it (unless they say something like ‘Benedict Cumberbatch’ … In that case, I completely agree)! 

It’s times like this where we need to look back and think about all the things we have achieved in such a small time frame of existence. The possibilities we have are endless, whether that be our future, the outfits that we can create using items already in our wardrobes, the choices that we can make every single day … and the list goes on. 

The term ‘infinity’ is a catalyst for many elements to ourselves which live inside our bodies and need the opportunity to come out and show to the world just how bright we can shine. 

Personally, writing is my infinity. I find a release from the repeated tapping on my laptop keys, that I am yet to find elsewhere. Writing makes me feel good, and even better when I am congratulated or rewarded from doing so. I cannot even begin to express how it feels when people message me saying that they love my work, or that it has helped them in some way. It is as though the stars have lit up inside of me and expanded to create a galaxy to show me that the opportunities I have are endless. 

When typing, I have no real idea what is going to appear on the page. Sometimes it even shocks me, scares me or surprises me. I then realise that this is also an aspect of ‘infinity’… My little infinity which lives inside of me, and helps me to understand my own thoughts and feelings in a creative and expressive way. 

I look at myself in the mirror when trying on a dress, and see that there are infinite ways I can look which could make this dress look considerably better - or even worse. I have infinite thoughts buzzing around my brain which are in a battle deciding whether I should crumble down in despair at my reflection in this deceitful piece of glass, or hold my head high and tell the world that I am proud of who I am and what the universe has turned me into.

Strangers. We look around and spot people that we have never seen before, and will never see again, and there’s a complete essence of beauty in that. Looking into their eyes, there are infinite things that they could be feeling, thinking, doing or creating … all in the vast infinity of their minds. I've mentioned about my fixation on people I've never met and will never meet before - there really is just something that completely fascinates me about that concept.

I guess feelings could be described as an infinity. Every day when you wake up, there are infinite things that you could be feeling, and that number expands due to the things we experience on that particular day. In the world, there are infinite things that could be happening at this very moment in time, even stuff that we don't even know about. 

There’s so much colour in the world, brought to us by the darkest of things. Yes, there’s hate, crime, violence, homophobia and awful, awful things that happen all across our beautiful planet, but it’s only in the darkest of times that we realise how bright we, and everyone else around us, shine. A spectrum of colours and an infinite amount of love. 

The world is our oyster, and it is our right to protect it and make it our own. 

Our little infinity.  

Hope you have a lovely week, and an even lovelier Christmas!

Grace x


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