The essay itself was one of my best works at the time, and the question is one I constantly return to; What will you do with this one wild and precious life?
I remember writing that essay and feeling the complete rightness of my path, the absolute, innocent arrogance that came from that confidence. I remember pouring all of it onto that page and knowing that it was absolutely, unequivocally the right thing to write.
Eleven years later, that blind confidence doesn't really exist anymore. I lost it. It chipped away under the stresses of disheartenment and disillusion, and I was exposed, like every soul throughout history, as just one more fool.
And you know, that's okay. That's my journey. And slowly, grudgingly, carefully, I'm learning how to be okay in my skin, and accept the new pieces I've gaine…