I wish I were Heather
 |
| Forever being Adelaide |
I thought I could fix things, undo mistakes, and start afresh.
I thought I could be Adelaide.
But then, I wanted to be Heather,
I don't know why.
Maybe because Heather is happy where she is,
Maybe because Heather has something I desperately wish to have.
I kept comparing myself to Heather, only to realise what I was actually doing.
Heather never forced things; she let them be,
Unlike me, who kept pushing, forcing herself into rooms where she was no longer valued.
Heather cherished what she had from the start, while I took it for granted.
And when I finally realized it was slipping from my grasp,
I tried to hold on desperately,hopelessly.
But no matter how hard I tried, I could not embrace the inevitable,
I was not capable enough!
I believe Heather to be better than me,
Why? I don't know.
I felt ugly,
I doubted myself,
I wished to tear myself open, remove this unbearable feeling.
I hated myself.
I could not stand myself.
Why? Maybe because I could never be Heather.
I am losing my individuality,
becoming a shadow of her.
But do I even know who she is?
All I know is that she has something I could never have.
Can I not see Heather happy?
Am I that cruel?
Can't I just let things be?
Can't I stop chasing?
Can't I be content with myself?
Can I ever be Heather?
And if I were Heather in another world, could I make it stay?
Would I be happy then?
Or would the perspective shift, and I'd long to be someone else?
Am I still searching for passion in the wrong places?
Am I still misfortunate enough to lose it all again?
The answer remains- I don't know.
But Adelaide gives me hope.
She never tried to be someone else
.
She made herself worthy of being valued for who she truly was.
She knew when to let go.
She loved without conditions, and in the end, the Universe loved her back.
She got her HAPPY ENDING.
Now that I know I can never be Heather, I hope to be 'Adelaide',
To your 'Rory'
-forever.
There’s so much pain in comparison, but even more power in self-realization. The shift from wanting to be Heather to choosing to become Adelaide, that’s growth. Not chasing perfection, but embracing authenticity. This is a beautiful reminder that peace begins when we stop becoming someone else and start becoming ourselves
ReplyDeleteHi Mnv, Before you try to heal a person, ask her if she is willing to leave what is making her sick. When you throw a lifeline to a drowning woman, if she can't take the lifeline she will hold down your boat and take you down and drown you with her. There is a fine line between saving someone and self-preservation. Understand that boundary. There are no awards for being a martyr. You will do the world much more good by having a full cup. You cannot heal everyone on earth, but you can save people who truly want to be saved and you will be better of letting them be whatever they want to be instead of offering your opinion thankyou.
DeleteHey Anonymous,
DeleteJust because she’s swimming through her own storm doesn’t mean she’s asking to drown—and it sure doesn’t mean you get to stand on the shore throwing stones disguised as lifelines. Stop confusing your condescension for wisdom. Healing doesn’t need your permission, and neither does her journey.
Hi Samya, respect to you miss, shifting the narrative completely , talking about crashing a heartfelt moment with a wrecking ball! You storm in, guns blazing, acting like you’ve caught some villain throwing stones, when all I see is you hurling boulders of your own. The words here weren’t chaining anyone down—they were about lifting up the power of choice, something you seem hell-bent on trampling with your high-and-mighty lecture. Calling out “condescension”? Look in the mirror, Samya:you’re the one perched on a throne, sneering at advice that’s just trying to keep someone’s light from flickering out. Swing and a miss, and you’re still swinging, clueless that you’re punching at air. Healing’s not your personal soapbox to strut on, and it sure isn’t about barking orders at someone’s heart like you’ve got their map figured out. From what I read, it’s about finding your own damn truht, letting go of chasing a ghost like Heather and owning your story, like Adelaide did when she chose Rory over a world screaming “no.” That’s what hit me hard here: the guts to stop forcing yourself into places that don’t see you and start building one that does. The advice you’re slamming wasn’t about control, it was about knowing you can’t drag someone to shore if they’re not ready to swim. But you, Samya? You’re too busy playing judge to notice the wisdom staring you down. Keep firing your arrows, and you’ll only hit your own foot. The point wasn’t to cage anyone—it was to say, “Hey, let people choose their tide, and don’t drown yourself trying to force the rescue.” Before you come back with another self-righteous rant, slow down and actually get what’s being said. You’d do a hell of a lot better listening to the heart of this—about saving your strength for those who want it—than strutting around like you’ve cracked the code on someone else’s story. Drop the gavel, Samya. It’s not your court, and you’re embarrassing yourself trying to run it. I suppose I should thank ig for dropping me into this mess, squaring off againdt the queen of muddled viewpoints and brainrotted jugdements enough internet for today lads!
DeleteHey Anonymous,
DeleteYou really wrote a whole Shakespearean meltdown trying to defend a comment that couldn’t stand on its own. Impressive vocabulary—shame about the logic. You talk about choice while choosing to twist a reflection into a courtroom drama. But I get it—when the truth rattles insecure egos, it echoes loud.
You called my reply a wrecking ball? Cute. But let’s be real—it only felt like demolition because your fragile sermon was built on ego, not empathy. And for someone preaching about ‘not saving the unwilling,’ you sure tried hard to save face behind a keyboard.
Let me clarify something, since comprehension clearly dodged you: I wasn’t trying to steal anyone’s story. I was reminding you that unsolicited ‘wisdom’ coated in superiority isn’t a lifeline—it’s just weight. Heavy and unasked for.
You talk about judgment while crafting an essay judging me for speaking up. Classic case of ‘do as I say, not as I do,’ huh?
Anyway, I don’t owe you an apology for turning the mirror you held up right back at you. If it shattered, that’s on the cracks already there.
But go off, Anonymous. Keep writing essays nobody asked for. Just remember: volume doesn’t equal value—and neither does alliteration when you’re gaslighting growth.
Catch your breath. Touch grass. And maybe next time, don’t confuse being called out with being canceled.