Written and Directed by Me

Ever since I was a young kid (I’d say more towards the beginning of my teenage years), I always believed I had the magical ability to direct my life and the lives of others around. And by “direct”, I mean, create opportunities for goodness, goofiness and all around happiness for me and my loved ones.
I’ve always been the eternal romantic and optimist, and of course, I was hoping for everything to happen in the best way.

Life is obviously not as dandy and light-hearted, however, at the time, I wasn’t entirely aware of it. I have lived a rather sheltered life up until my early adult years, so I went on believing I could be a Roberto Benigni character of sorts for quite a while. I believed I could improve people’s lives just by being the silly, funny guy that doesn’t take much seriously and that goes through life in a comedic motion, engaging in it in an extremely theatrical fashion. I embodied that guy seamlessly and I suppose in a certain way it alienated me from taking existence or even life, with the earnestness and with the basic level of responsibility it also demands. I was a clown and I wanted to be a clown. I was an actor in my own life and I wanted to become one full-time. A lovely task, it seemed.

I jumped through my teenage years with the radical belief that everyone deserved to be happy, to feel truly gay, and at some point in time, I suppose I forgot myself. At this moment, if I am completely honest, I can’t be sure I actually ever did it for me. But I went all in, I committed to the character with my entire body and soul. At another point during those years, I wanted to be one of Robin Williams’ characters. I envisioned I’d be a professor Keating alike, I’d be a teacher and a guide. A daring and wise spirit. A witty human being. Willing to live my life to the fullest and assist others who wished to do the same. But you can’t live fully, if you want to become someone else. And you certainly can’t expect to give other people guarantees on how their lives will work out.

Early adulthood was therefore quite miserable, as you can expect. I realized I couldn’t play any of my desired parts anymore. I realized I’m not a director and  I am actually not in control of much. My mind and soul broke into a million pieces and I honestly thought I would not recover. It was painful and miserable. I’m still working on getting some pieces back together, if they may still belong to me.

Now, grown into a full-blown adult, I understand my intentions and my potential. I know I can’t direct or fix everything. I know I can’t be happy and fulfilled all the time. I know I’m just a human being, trying my best. I know I’m not a clown or an actor. I just am who I am. Accepting who you are beyond what you want to be is fundamental. Otherwise, you won’t realize the limits of what you can potentially be. And you won’t be able to cope with the fact that some things just don’t really happen or work out as planned.

I’m still the funny, kind and goofy guy I always rooted for in my favorite movies. I’m wise and witty and I follow my own path. I don’t wish to be another way. I’m proud to be unable to direct anything or to pretend to be someone else for all my years.

I’m happy and man, has it been a while, since it truly felt like that.
I can’t wait for the upcoming years, the next scenes in the movie of life. I’m still excited about it all. Or don’t you know… I’m still a romantic, optimist at heart?

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