A PSA on Happiness

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I see you: the person who’s survived an incredible amount of pain. I see someone who spent a long time fighting just to survive the situation you were in, let alone try to maintain any amount of happiness.

You are a hero.

Pain has tried to consume you, but still you fought. Anyone could have given up. You chose to stick it out. That speaks wonders about your strength, dignity, and power. But something still tugs at your coat tails every now and then, nagging with unwelcome thoughts of your lack of deservedness toward this new life you bled to build.

You are no longer in that situation that tried to break you. You have dug and set and fought your way to a life you wanted to live. The control is yours, the trauma is supposedly over.

And yet.

Every time you relax, every time a smile cracks across your face, you are pulled back by the lingering memories of a life no longer lived. “You aren’t allowed to be happy,” they hiss in your ear. “This will all be taken from you at a moment’s notice.”

So you run. You retreat into the memories and let your defenses build up. Excuses grow like thorns on roses and people leave. And you tell yourself that’s fine.

I want you to know that it doesn’t have to be like this.

Your struggle is a piece in your carefully crafted story. It was you who fought your way through it and you who deserves every slice of happiness life serves you from now on. Do not give into the fear, the negative thoughts, and the doubt. It didn’t win the first time for a reason.

Open your arms. Love like crazy, laugh like it’s never going out of style. Treat yourself. This is your new life, this is your happy ending. No one gets to make you feel less than them. Not anymore. No one gets to tell you that you don’t matter, your story doesn’t matter. It does. And you’re the one who’s writing it.

You’re so loved. You matter so much. And you deserve to be the happiest you can be.

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1 comment

  1. HarleysJoke

    My biggest block to happiness is the pain of rejection and failure is infinitely more horrible than any temporary happiness. It’s a real, physical pain as the failure hollows me out like a Halloween pumpkin.

    Like a whipped animal, I shrink from anything that even suggests the consequences of trying and failing.

    Thank you for the article.