Lately, the harshness of the world around me has explained why optimists over the age of 15 are a dying breed.
Understandably, my life struggles become more complex and difficult to deal the with as I become more mature. Optimism was easier to come by when my biggest worry was a stubbed toe on the playground or eventually a prom date. Now, I’m trying to maneuver through adulthood during the first year of living on my own. That change comes with more “gray area” between right and wrong, as well as whether or not I feel fulfillment in my life.
Anyone close to me knows of my love for optimism. Whenever I give my friends advice or pay attention to the unending monologue running through my head at 100 mph, I try to practice the notion that everything in life happens for a reason. Up until this past year, however, I thought that meant that no matter what decisions I make in life, everything will work out perfectly.
Spoiler alert: that isn’t always the case. Sometimes life just sucks and there’s no real explanation for it. Sometimes the explanation is that I messed up, whether that means choosing convenience over hard work or allowing my emotions to overpower my logic. As a person who bases my morals and philosophies off of my heart, this is a difficult lesson that I admittedly am still learning.
This realization, however, has allowed me to attain a lifestyle that I’m proud of because I don’t leave everything up to fate. Reaching my goals tastes sweeter because I know it's thanks to dedication instead of good luck. In my creative writing class I'm taking this semester, I worked on a specific poem for hours upon hours. I read those thirty lines more than I'd like to admit. When my teacher handed back my poem with "EXCELLENT" scrawled at the top of the page and a near perfect score next to it in bright blue ink, I couldn't have been more thrilled. If I received the same score for a poem I gave half as much effort, the success would not have felt the same.
Optimism also helps me in times of defeat. I have overcome toxic friendships, failed tests I thought I would ace, and felt fragile in the aftermath of heartbreak. Optimism gives me hope that all these trials occur because I have something better in store for me. I just wasn’t able to see it beyond the unruly amount of pain.
Much of my reliance on optimism comes from my relationship with God. It can have the same effect on someone without a religious preference, but personally I owe all of the times I persevered in the face of tribulation to Christ. When I asked for strength, He gave me moments to overcome weakness. When I prayed for more love in my life, He sent me someone who needed to be shown compassion. When I begged for a sign, He gave me the opportunity to blindly trust. Through the times I almost want to give up, I have the assurance that I know God has amazing things waiting for me. Hope never goes out of style.
