Something Just Like This

I rather be authentic than perfect. I rather be normal than extraordinary. I rather eat pizza on a bench in the park than in Michelin star restaurant. I rather be comfortable than being on diet. I rather be one of the crowd than top 10. Being perfect is boring. And you are alone. And everyone is watching. And waiting. Because we all know that being perfect doesn’t last forever.

I’m quite a simple girl. Not very demanding. I got married without needing a diamond. I don’t own any designer handbag. Actually I own only one handbag. But five running vests. I don’t need flowers to know he loves me. I need sun, nature and mountains. The simpler the better.

And I’m dreaming about that-one-day, when I will leave everything behind, pack my husband, cat and sport clothes and go into the nature and live from taking pictures on instagram and writing my thoughts down. I know, that this one-day will never happen. I know, that living from blog or social media account is pretty impossible even when it seems like the most normal thing when you browse instagram. The truth is, you need money to pursue your dreams. If you pursue your dreams on monthly basis like I do, you will never save enough to pursue the big dream. Sad but truth. Priorities.

Lately, I’ve been talking lots about authenticity. How we don’t need superheroes as we can’t identify with them. Girls dream about prince on white horse, guys want to have super powers. How amazing would it be if we finally start appreciate what we have around us. What is so simple, basic, common. We always thrive for more. We always see what we are missing. How someone else has more. Better. That he was born and raised in his home town. Built a house there, has all friends and family around him. has a good job, nice wife, two kids. The normal life.

I have none of that. My family is far away. I lost way too many friends because of moving countries. I get used to the fact that people come and go. No matter how much I hate that idea. I live in rented one bedroom flat. My husband works crazy hours so there might be a week when we don’t really see each other. But there is dinner. Or folded laundry. Or peanut butter in cupboard. Or washed dishes. Small things. Small things that make me aware he is here for me. Small things like love are the biggest ones.

And as I’m stuck in my office job, I don’t need to hear that everything can change I just need to try. No, not everything is possible in this world for me. Everything I have, I got and earned myself. Hence I’m so stubborn as I never got anything for free. Being born in socialism my parents never had chance to travel. I was travelling on plane for the first time about 7 years ago. Maybe that’s why travelling means freedom to me?

My life is far from perfect. But as no one ever asked me where I wanted to be born (Norway! Thank you!) and I can only work on and live in what I create myself in the given circumstances. I don’t like to complain. I don’t want people to be sorry for me. I have good life. I have place to live, person to love, food to eat, friends and people around me to be and run with. I have my little side-passion-job. And I’m still looking for the route which will me lead me to the big dream. As for now, I’m trying to enjoy the journey. With those and with things that make me happy:

 

 

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