When My Life Was A Plaid Cloth

If my life was a plaid cloth, it would be tattered, uneven, and inexplicably burned in some places. Every line, every strand, and every fiber is an experience from my life. But I look at the worn and torn strands with pride, and happily add new strands everyday. The only strands I regret looking at, are the ones that are missing. I used to be a picky person. In middle school, I’d only talk to certain people, take certain classes, and participate in activities that I deemed “worthy.” All to reach an imaginary idea of perfection in my head. I thought that by closing myself in a rigid structure and following a strict path, I’d be happy and successful. But I was wrong. I looked back at what I was doing, and realized I wasn’t doing anything. I went through my day to day life without a single change or challenge. I didn’t try new things, I was scared to act, and I was becoming complacent. I was wrong.

I want to try everything, just so I can experience it. Clubs I thought I’d never join, classes I thought I’d never take, friends I thought I’d never make. I tried them all. I’ve made countless mistakes, had thousands of failures, but despite all the setbacks and shortcomings, I’m happy. I’m happy because I can keep adding lines to my plaid. In life I’m either moving forward, or sliding back. Experiencing failure after failure is far better than doing nothing, because failure presents the opportunity for learning, growth, and success. Sometimes, I think back to the opportunities I missed. The people I could have met. The places I could have went. The paths I could have walked. I can’t go back to them now, but I can keep pushing forward. The colors and patterns I could have weaved in the past are gone, but there are far brighter and vibrant colors I can still find if I look for them in the