We can constantly search for that place or person that will make us happy. I know because I’ve done that for so, so long. Always trying to find that place that will make me happy and content.
As time slowly transports me to middle age, I’m starting to realise, as many before me have said, happiness is within. Happiness is not something that manifests from a place or person for it is within.
I’ve often entertained the idea of travelling around my country, in a van, with my beloved sausage dogs.
I’m now starting to really think about that. I say that because when I venture from my home to places where other people are, I cannot get home quick enough.
Call me selfish, but I just don’t like people much. I spent years trying to fit in, trying to be liked and constantly pretending I fit into other’s worlds. Bottom line, I don’t. And therein lies the struggle I’ve endured all of my life.
So, with that in mind, I’m now of the belief that I simply want to create my home whereby I can just be – a place that I can wander with my sausages without worrying about people invading our space.
I thought in order to be happy, I needed to be liked and todo all the things society preached. I tried to be part of the social norm. But it never worked.
I struggled. I cried. I lost. Continually.
Now that I’ve realised I don’t need to fit, I’m happy.
I believe in time I’ll find my acreage, somewhere. But for now I’m happy to just plod along with my sausages and not try to impress or fit to societal ideals.
Ah, loving me…