Broken

As sad as it may sound, I’ve always viewed myself as a broken person. Ever since I was younger, I’ve had this overwhelming feeling that there’s something wrong with me that I can’t fix. Although I see many good qualities in myself, I’ve always just felt like I was broken beyond repair.  

Ironically enough, up until last year, I had never broken a bone. I wouldn’t necessarily say that I’m accident prone, but I’ve had my fair share of bruises, bumps, and sprains, but I had never broken any bones.  

Although I was never physically broken, I’ve always felt broken into a million pieces mentally. I let my emotions get the best of me. I don’t know how to feel comfortable with myself. I’m unable to have a relationship with someone without losing a piece of myself.  

Freshman year of college came, and I didn’t know how to handle myself. I went into it with the impression that I was a broken person who wouldn’t be able to form friendships, relationships, or succeed in any way.  

I subconsciously kept my expectations low and when I found success I was in awe. How was I worthy of making meaningful friendships? How was I truly able to overcome the difficulties I faced? How was I able to find comfort in being independent?  

Despite surprising myself with all the accomplishments that I made during my first semester of college I still felt broken. No matter how many friends I made, I still felt lonely at the end of the day. No matter how well I did in school, I still felt like it wasn’t good enough. No matter how comfortable I was with myself, I had to accept the fact- I am a broken person.  

I was so excited to start the second semester of my freshman year. This would finally be the time that I mended these parts of me that I desperately wanted to fix. Then it happened. I broke my ankle. 

The thing was, I didn’t need x-rays or surgery to tell me I was broken; I’ve always known it. Nonetheless, I had to miss the first couple weeks of the semester to recover from surgery and learn how to get around on crutches. 

Now I was broken in more ways than one and it was too much for me. I remember crying in my dorm room, not thinking I was going to make it through this dark time. The few months I spent recovering from the injury I struggled significantly. It was also during this time that I learned that it was okay to be broken.  

It’s okay to cry when I get upset about something. It’s okay to struggle with relationships. It’s okay to feel uncomfortable. No matter how broken I feel, I never worry. I know that I’ll be able to pick up all the pieces and put myself back together.  

• growth
• mental health
• mindset