“I’m gonna make you a bad writer”, he said.

He wasn’t wrong. Why? Because, for the first time in three years, I’m not thinking every single second of my existence about how easy everything would be if I weren’t having my health challenges. For the first time in a long time, I would be upset if I didn’t wake up the next morning. Because, for the first time in quite o long time, I’m pumped about life and I’m looking forward to the future.

In my humble opinion, good writing, good music, good movies, all in all good art, mind blowing ideas, quotes, scenes, lyrics, tunes or paintings have a dose of sadness, of despair, of depression, of torment. I’m not saying I’m healed of all the stupid ideas in my head, I’m not saying I stopped trying to figure out a cure for my state, I’m not saying I don’t find myself wishing to be one hundred per cent capable of climbing a mountain, running for the bus or walking twenty thousand steps a day, but these thoughts are not the main focus of my existence anymore.

So, yes, I found myself in a creative rut because, well, there’s nothing to complain about for the time being. At first it felt weird, unusual and bizarre not to focus on my challenges and not to feel down. Then, I felt a sort of hatred towards the Universe for bringing him into my life at a lower point than I would have wished. I asked myself why now, why like this and why not sooner. I blamed myself for not being enough, for not bringing enough to the table and for not being “perfect”. Now, I just accept the fact that the Universe has a different plan for me and that I should trust its timing and stop questioning its ways.

Another idea that started growing on me was that I should thank my challenge for the way it forced me to grow. Before all this, I was a stubborn, rigid, snobbish, independent and very proud girl. I thought that my existence was better than the existence of others, I relied on my intellect, my wits and my sarcasm to prove my superiority and my worth. I had a vision of love that was immature, fairytale like and, let’s face it, impossible. My challenge helped me grow up and realize what is truly important in life and in love.

As I was talking to my best friend of twenty years about how we changed from secondary school to the present moment, I had an a-ha moment about how I became more humble. Not in a victim kind of way, not in a religious kind of way, but in the sense that I began to understand that, no matter how rich, educated, beautiful, sophisticated or filled with degrees and diplomas you are, these aspects are futile and unimportant. If I were to give a cinematic example, two movies come to mind. One would be Reversal of Fortune, a movie starring Glenn Close and Jeremy Irons, depicting the story of an absurdly rich couple living in New York, utterly unhappy, dissatisfied, depressed and lacking the joy of living. Money can enhance happiness, I’m not a hypocrite, but money can definitely not buy happiness. The other movie is Perfect Days, a story about a man whose job is cleaning the public restrooms of Tokyo. We see him living the same day all over again, waking up each morning with a joy for life, reading, washing up, going to work, going out to eat, buying cassettes, listening to music in his work van and just enjoying every second of his existence, as repetitive and mundane as it may seem.

So, yes, as my ego begins to shut up and as my heart begins to open up to new possibilities, I find myself finding joy in the day to day life. I greeted love with humbleness and love rewarded me with the feeling of security, with the feeling of being appreciated without having to play a role or a game, with the possibility of being adored just for being. Each day I learn that being vulnerable is a sign of courage, that being honest to oneself is a form of respect towards life and that being genuine is much more fulfilling than playing a role you think would impress others.

As cliche as it may sound, love is the answer. Loving yourself, loving others and loving life. Today I found myself analyzing the people on the bus. Nobody was laughing, let alone smiling. Maybe because of the music in my ears, maybe because of the weather or maybe because I am re-learning how being happy feels like, I was smiling.

The fear of losing this feeling is tamed and tempered only by the joy of actually feeling it. This is by far the most vulnerable I have ever felt before hitting Publish for one of my posts. The antidote to fear is love. So, let’s do it, let’s fall in love.

Yes, maybe I am in a creative rut. Yes, maybe all the love songs finally make sense. Yes, maybe I’m stupidly smiling on a bus for no apparent reason. And yes, maybe the butterflies in my stomach are beating their wings and taking control over my thoughts and actions. But never have I ever thought dreams really do come true. Especially dreams that, for so long, seemed so far away.