Simply put, can people really change? I am fixated on the possibility of our capacity to do just that: Change. I'm not sure if it's the book I'm reading, the long conversation I had with an old friend, or an observation of my own behavior that made me ask myself, "Is what we were always what we are?"
I'm reading The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini. I've owned this book for almost two years and I regret every day that I didn't pick it up. It is amazing. I can't decide exactly what draws me in, but I think the main reason I am so anxious to turn the page is that I have no idea what I will read next. The story of these two Afghan boys is foreign to me. Although I can’t relate to the story of Amir and Hassan, I empathize with the pain and regret Amir describes. Because he wasn’t initially able to confront his demons, they haunted him for years to come. In his mind, he would always be guilty of cowardice and disloyalty. With 70 pages left, I am beginning to understand that this reality, perhaps like all of our realities, is subject to change. To describe Amir’s experience as overcoming his past sounds so cliché. I’m not sure we can ever “overcome the past.” Sometimes our only option is to accept it and choose to move forward and with that decision we are changed.
Or maybe that’s just what we tell ourselves. After two years of not speaking to a friend, I ran into her on the street and immediately knew that things needed to change. I don’t think I will ever fully understand myself or even be able to articulate my reasons for ending our friendship. The most honest thing I can say about it is that I needed to grow up and at the time, I thought our friendship was holding me back. Excluding previous boyfriends, this is one of my top five biggest regrets in life. I don’t regret recognizing that I needed to change my lifestyle, but I do regret the way I treated my friend. Like Amir in The Kite Runner, I’m not sure I will ever be able to forgive myself.
Two years came and went. Our lives changed in every possible way. But put us in a room together and we still laugh like hell. I can’t believe I missed two years of that laughter. Last week, we met for drinks, appetizers and good conversation. I realized afterwards that even though it seemed like everything was different, there were so many things that were exactly the same. It amazed me how quickly I could revert to some of the characteristics of my 23-year-old-self. Why is that? Am I still that person? At the root of it all, am I still the person I worked so hard to grow out of? The truth is: I hope not. I hope that I am a stronger person than I was at 23. I am hopeful that I have the ability to change.
I'm reading The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini. I've owned this book for almost two years and I regret every day that I didn't pick it up. It is amazing. I can't decide exactly what draws me in, but I think the main reason I am so anxious to turn the page is that I have no idea what I will read next. The story of these two Afghan boys is foreign to me. Although I can’t relate to the story of Amir and Hassan, I empathize with the pain and regret Amir describes. Because he wasn’t initially able to confront his demons, they haunted him for years to come. In his mind, he would always be guilty of cowardice and disloyalty. With 70 pages left, I am beginning to understand that this reality, perhaps like all of our realities, is subject to change. To describe Amir’s experience as overcoming his past sounds so cliché. I’m not sure we can ever “overcome the past.” Sometimes our only option is to accept it and choose to move forward and with that decision we are changed.
Or maybe that’s just what we tell ourselves. After two years of not speaking to a friend, I ran into her on the street and immediately knew that things needed to change. I don’t think I will ever fully understand myself or even be able to articulate my reasons for ending our friendship. The most honest thing I can say about it is that I needed to grow up and at the time, I thought our friendship was holding me back. Excluding previous boyfriends, this is one of my top five biggest regrets in life. I don’t regret recognizing that I needed to change my lifestyle, but I do regret the way I treated my friend. Like Amir in The Kite Runner, I’m not sure I will ever be able to forgive myself.
Two years came and went. Our lives changed in every possible way. But put us in a room together and we still laugh like hell. I can’t believe I missed two years of that laughter. Last week, we met for drinks, appetizers and good conversation. I realized afterwards that even though it seemed like everything was different, there were so many things that were exactly the same. It amazed me how quickly I could revert to some of the characteristics of my 23-year-old-self. Why is that? Am I still that person? At the root of it all, am I still the person I worked so hard to grow out of? The truth is: I hope not. I hope that I am a stronger person than I was at 23. I am hopeful that I have the ability to change.
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