The One Where I Tell Myself, You’re Good

When I think about my childhood and all the times I imagined a time skip happening to me growing up and becoming a “pretty, mature, and well-settled” version of myself.

I have to restrain the urge to wish that a Tardis existed, and that I would probably deck mini-Sharu in the face for having daydreams.

Because that’s something current-Sharu would totally do.


Sometimes I think Chanel Oberlin is my spirit animal.

Mostly because in the span of one year and four months of being employed, I have come to realise that I’m not the worst human being on the planet; and that I completely understand why some people would want to swallow as opposed to letting a dude impregnate you.


Image courtesy – Kofi Runs

You’re probably thinking, “Damn, who pissed in her biryani today.” or “Janice, check out this kid, I think this is the most self-absorbed pretentious thing I’ve ever read on the Internet.”

The sad thing is that I’m unfortunately not whack – I’ve reached my threshold of being able to put up with people being shitty human beings in a professional environment, and I’m still not over being stuck in a cesspool of negativity.


So done with everything in life, aesthetic.

As everyone who’s been following my blog knows that I have a history of writing about really offensive people in my life, and most of it is bad luck and me just trying to understand how some people are so ignorant.


Growing up sucks and trying to be an adult in 2016 is insane.


So let’s just get to it then.

I’ve reached this point in my life where I’m constantly asking questions on whether I made the right decision doing a Television degree when my heart was in Journalism all along.  A part of me feels regret that I didn’t listen to my instincts just because I let my friends influence my decision and thinking.

There’s nothing worse in your life than finding out that the three years I spent in college was sorta wasted because I’m in social media at the moment, and that’s not close to what my dreams are. Worse is, that I’m having a crap quarter life crisis and I’m just second guessing every decision I make because it doesn’t look like the one I crafted in my head (you know, the one where I’m happily married to Chris Evans and we live with our aesthetically pleasing biracial children and pets, and I’m Oprah 2.0).

Jokes apart, it’s taken me a whole year to accept that every criticism cast at me isn’t a personal attack. Whether the intention behind it isn’t constructive, isn’t really my place to say it but I have tried my hardest to learn from these lessons as difficult and challenging it’s been for the past year.

When I thought I would sink, I learnt how to swim because I didn’t want the sharks to eat me.

I have always been a survivor, albeit a reluctant one. It’s something I learnt growing up, not a lot affects me but when it does – it shows. I’d like to think that I’m doing the best I can in the situation I’m in and that all my hopes and dreams are real and are valid.


Sometimes that’s the hardest thing to believe in when people around keep asking you to accommodate them. Sometimes it’s the hardest thing to believe in when everyone laughs at your dream that one day you’ll be a sought after director or even a journalist.

Life isn’t fair and it’s not a box of chocolates.

Life is always going to make you wish that you were dealt better cards with fate. You’re always going to wonder whether the road less travelled is the right one. But that’s the whole point of dealing with people who are messy and problematic and downright manipulative.

You rise above it because that’s what you do. You survive because you know that no matter how many times you shrink yourself and make yourself accommodating; you’ve got bigger fish to fry.

You’re bigger than this and frankly that’s all that keeps me going on my worst days.


You can’t ask the sun to stop shining just because your eyes hurt looking at it. After all it’s better to be unbowed, unbent and unbroken than to only grow strong.



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