I Want Wings Instead Of Roots


I wish I had wings instead of roots. I wish I could pick up my life and move without having to worry about the things and people I would leave behind, the job I love, the community I crave, the city I would actually settle down in someday.

I wish I had hope instead of fear. I wish I lived my life as a person who always did the thing that made them more hopeful, as opposed to the thing that was safe.

I wish I was brave in my adventures. My adventures, while sometimes epic, seem to be mostly in my sphere of familiarity, that thing commonly known as my comfort zone.

I wish I was better at asking for what I want. Although, I would have to figure out what I wanted first.

I wish I was better at knowing what I want or being courageous enough to really want things. I want to want. I want to want things hard and fast and without common sense and without hesitation.

I wish my faith was stronger. I wish I knew without reservation that there is someone or something in the world that loves me unconditionally. I wish that was all the love I needed.

I wish I needed less love, less attention, less priority, just less. I wish I could just be and be content.

I wish I was enough for myself.

I wish my dad wasn’t such a jerk, and that my mom wasn’t so committed to “make things work.” I wish I had grown up with parents who loved each other. I wish I had grown up in an unbroken household. I wish I had been taught what “support” meant without it referring to a financial statement. I never wanted that kind of support from anyone.

I wish someone loved me like a love song. Like “White Dress” by Ben Rector, or “Our Song” by Ron Pope. Love me like that’s all you need in this world.

I wish I trusted people.

I wish my life was exactly like it seemed to everyone else. And I wish people would stop comparing their lives to mine. And I wish that people didn’t make assumptions about my life.

I wish I could be more comfortable in my skin.

I wish we could all express ourselves in a way that was embraced instead of judged. If I want to be a 23-year-old white female that listens to rap music at 100% in my ruby red Ford Focus, LEMME BE.

I wish a smile was just a kind gesture instead of an assumption.

I wish running away from our problems was a solution, instead of a bigger problem.

I wish I could talk about my depression. Sometimes I wish I had more control of my emotions. Sometimes I wish depression was less about the dark, and more about the light we find at the end of the tunnel. I wish it wasn’t a defining moment in my life, but merely some pressure that made my diamond bigger and brighter than before.

I wish the sunshine and the rain both came every day.

I wish I didn’t give my whole heart away to people…

And I wish I meant that. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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