Miruna Codeanu

Yes I mind. No, you can’t tell me how to live

In cappuccino on June 21, 2013 at 9:37 am

“The recipe” , “10 steps to…”, “7 steps…”. “10 habits of…”, “25 things successful people do”, “do you really need…”, “do you really want”, “don’t you want a…”, “get out and dream”, “buy a ticket”

Hello, I am a human being. An individual. Let me repeat. Individual. That means there is no recipe I should follow, there are no steps that if I follow I get to have a successful life, doesn’t mean we have the same definition of a successful life, there is a very high possibility I do not have any of those 10 or 25 habits of successful people, I could probably live in less than 80 sqm, I do not want to get out of my office, I will buy a ticket whenever I want to buy a ticket to wherever I want to, because I am an individual of legal age who can make her own decisions, living in a (somewhat) democratic system.

I am literally overfed with being told how to live my life. This is my life. I make my choices, I stand the consequences. No, those cute little messages won’t stand the consequences of your decisions. Neither will your best friend’s Facebook wall. Previous generations were probably sick and tired of parents telling them how to live their life. Some of us too. I am not, my parents’ did not tell me how to live my life. It was always “it’s up to you” sometimes followed by an advice but not always. I am thankful. This made me be independent, ok sometimes maybe too independent, stand on my two feet, stand up for what i believe in and be proud of my backbone. If my parents did not tell me how to live, I will not listen to your advice either, I am used to making my own decisions.

Yes, I mind whenever somebody throws cheap philosophy at me: get on train and start over. Well, first of all, there is no starting over, you always start somewhere. Don’t worry for me, I have my share of wild stuff, plenty of actually, but your happiness isn’t my happiness. I do not want to get out of this office. I do not want to follow my passion. This office is a part of my passion. I do like what I’m doing and it is not my fault you don’t, don’t give me the advice you’d like to hear for yourself. Don’t tell about the simple joys in life, I already know. Tell yourself how to notice more, how to notice the ladybugs on the floor, how to notice the small gestures people make, how to thank the public domain employee who was watering the plants and just felt like washing your car. I like soap bubbles, I like sunsets, I like driving into the sunset, I like daydreaming, I love simplicity but I also love cars and airplanes, perfumes and hats and those are expensive habits. The fact that I enjoy smallness doesn’t mean that I should live small, I like my apartment, I like my car, I would like to own an airplane some day and an old manor. That doesn’t mean I am a snob. A little bit, I like expensive wine, does it count? Some day I may feel like going to an abandoned village and living as simple as possible and the other day being on an airplane to Portofino, but you have absolutely no right to tell me how to live.

Judge me, I probably do the same for you. I probably consider you uneducated for the way you articulate words, I probably judge any sentence you say. It’s normal, it’s the way we think, we think in categories, we belong to different categories but in each category there’s an individual and you have absolutely no right to make me your clone. You are not my master of puppets. Chances are you are not superior. The fact that you get the feeling that “get on a train and never come back” makes you different doesn’t you are, doesn’t mean it’s the right way to live, there is no right way to live, there is just a story at the end of the end of the day, the better if you enjoyed the day. So, if I work more than average, if I sleep less than average, if I enjoy more than average it’s because I am not average and you cannot make me. You can follow recipes, I’ll try make my own and if I fail, at least I’m gonna have a story to tell.


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