I used to believe in things greater than myself. I looked up to my parents and abided by the rules that they made, because I believed that they were right; that my parents were benevolent and omniscient. With age, I lifted the veil put over my eyes as my father left and my mother turned to alcohol, a realm outside of reality where only her own pain exists. I used to believe that the support of a family could save a person from despair, until I needed it and received no alms. As a young girl, I wrote letters to God and waited for some kind of consolation, but that never appeared. I felt as if I were being punished by him in my waiting, and I resented him. It was not until I let Him, the resentment, the hopelessness, and everything else go that I found the ground under my feet again.
I learned the peace that comes with making one’s self exist. Because with nothing else, you are left alone. And I am great enough a power to maintain myself. I believe that if you truly want something bad enough for the well being of yourself, you will go out and get it, and you are capable of achieving it. In my pain, I realized hopelessly that in the end, I have no one else but myself to support me. But this idea no longer brings me despair. Because I believe that everything that I have ever wanted to accomplish is possible by my own hands. I believe that the greatest power that exists is the one that every individual holds. And now, I don’t believe that there is any obstacle that can defeat me in the path to success. And that knowledge is greater than what anyone else could give me.
