If Today was my Last Day

One of the most profound lessons I learned after losing my sister it is that death is inevitable - at any moment I could die. And if that day was today, would I be satisfied with the life I lived? Lauren's suicide is complex. Many will say that my sister chose to end her life, that she had a future and a lifetime of beautiful days ahead of her but she chose to give it all up. I don't believe that.

In the deepest depth of my heart, I believe that my sister died far before the date on her death certificate. That death, she did not choose. Although she was breathing and moving and living, her soul was already gone.

So what if I died tomorrow, would I be content? would I be satisfied? That is such a difficult question. I can go through and check the boxes:

College degree. check

Living on my own since I was 18. check

~Glamorous~ job in advertising. check

New car. check

Plenty of savings and barely any debt to leave behind. check

I can picture my funeral and see someone addressing the crowd with all of the tangible successes I obtained in my 23 years, but was it enough for me?

I don't think so.

As I reflect on my childhood and think I about the person I have become, I am underwhelmed. Not with the outcome, but with the journey itself.

I realize that my biggest flaw is not in any of the decisions I've made, but in the way I chose to live. I think back to grammer school and remember my little cousin's hair in preparation for her dance recital. As I sat in the audience, I longed to be on stage with the older girls. But no one at my school danced. So in fear of being mocked for choosing an activity different from everyone else, I chose sports instead.

In high school I branched out and deepened my connection to fine arts - even though it wasn't the popular thing to do. Despite the tiny bit of freedom I gave myself, I let the opinions of other dictate what I created. I wanted my portfolio to be filled with abstract ideas, mixed mediums, and raw emotion. But my peers only commented on my photo-realistic charcoal pieces, so that is what I made.

When I was 18 I chose to go to college in the city and kept my full time job instead of going away or going abroad. I rushed through school because I had a taste of what adulthood was like and I didn't want to waste any more time in a classroom. I stayed in on Friday nights when my friends went to the bars because I couldn't be off my game for work in the morning. At one point I was hospitalized from the stress I was under, but my family and friends admired the path I chose so I honored it.

After college I started designing and dreamt of owning my own business - something that fostered my creativity, utilized my background in event planning and degree in marketing . But the fear of struggling and failure was all-consuming, so I began my career in media, a safe option.

I wish I could say that when I lost my sister everything clicked for me, but it didn't. Although I began recognizing the outward way I lived my life, I didn't snap my fingers and change overnight. I still stretch myself too thin and walk on the path that others expect me to be on. I make choices every day that will please someone else that often set myself back from reaching my own goals. I still stay at work until my supervisors leave, even if I had finished my own work. I linger over the delete button on many articles I have written, and will read over an unpublished article through the lens of 15 different people before I find the courage to post it. Although I consider myself to be the textbook definition of successful, I know that I am still deeply flawed.

I hope that a few months, or even a few years from now I can look upon this entry and fail to remember the mindset I had when I wrote it. I hope that I find the courage to express myself freely without the fear of negativity from others. I hope that I make decisions that benefit me and learn to say no when they don't.

If I could sit down and talk to my 8 year old self, I would tell her to live a life according to her, without the fear of not living up to the standards of everyone in the world around her. I would tell her how freeing it is to take a risk. I would tell her to stop fearing the backlash and critique of others and do things that make her happy. I would tell her to live without the fear of failure.

I am, above all, a work in progress. And that is perfectly fine by me.