I’m still in the midst of The Happiness Project. It’s taking so long because of school work and block tests, but now I’m finally realizing that I can squeeze in so much reading even in a hectic day. It’s amazing how happy I am everyday because I can finally read and not just wish to read.

So Gretchen Rubin mentioned in her book (chapter of May) about the “sadness of a happiness project” she felt after realizing that what she is passionate about limits her from doing other things the world has to offer, because she won’t be able to appreciate or enjoy them as much.

First, I am pretty sure I know what I like to do for fun. Gretchen took some time to figure that out, but I think, as a thirteen-year-old, I got that figured out. I like to read. I like to take photographs. I like to read blogs that blog about books, photography, musicals, movies and school. I like to watch musicals. I like to watch movies. I like to think. I like to explore things individually.

Of course, all these might change as I mature and grow older, but I am 85% certain that I would still be who I am now twenty years later. Gretchen’s friend has said, ““What you enjoyed as a ten-year-old is probably something you’d enjoy now.” Change the ten-year-old to thirteen, and there you have it.

Of course, I feel the sadness too. I’m sure everyone will or have felt it while growing up.

The realisation didn’t strike me so vividly. I think it crept up to me and I learnt to accept it. I realised I would never be able to be a forensic scientist, because as much as I enjoy biology, I’m not passionate about it. I realised I would never be a dancer, because I’m not flexible and I’m clumsy and not graceful and elegant. I realised I would never be good at table tennis, or tennis, or badminton, or swimming. And sometimes I wish I was different. Sometimes I wish I was not me, and I could be someone else. Someone I define as perfect or ideal.

But sometimes I think, “Who cares about perfection or ideality?” I’m comfortable in my own skin, and I actually like being myself. I’m proud of being me.

Once, my mother asked me if I wanted to wax off my bikini line (a line of thin hair down my body) and I asked, “What for?” She said so I could wear a bikini and people won’t see the bikini line. But I told her that it was not as if I was going to wear a bikini in the future. The future is unpredictable, yes, but I’m very sure I’m not going to wear a bikini so often I have to get rid of something that isn’t hindering anything. I’m pretty sure ten years from now, I would still rather curl up in my room to sleep, read, blog or watch some musical or movie for the hundredth time.

I probably will not be a forensic scientist, a dancer or an athletic, but i will be who i was meant to be. To sum up today’s post, I’ll leave a quote by a commenter on Gretchen’s blog who wrote,
“One day—I was about 34 years old—it dawned on me: I can DO ANYTHING I want, but I can’t DO EVERYTHING I want.