the semisweet life

Last week, the New York Times published an article about the ability of writing to increase happiness. The author found continual research to confirm that those who wrote about their life and their goals in a positive light found greater joy in life. “Writing forces people to reconstrue whatever is troubling them and find new meaning in it,” one researcher reported. By portraying oneself as happy in writing, a person actually becomes more content with life.

In the same week, two separate friends shared with me their perception that I am doing life well. One friend commented on her desire to hang out with me more because I seem to have so much fun. The other, engaging in Facebook banter about a recent blog post, told me that I am “doing some important things right in life right now.” It is true: as my blog indicates, I think I have a pretty sweet life. Ironically though, these two comments came as bookends to a breakdown about all the things I am doing wrong – a breakdown in which a mascara-smeared kendall lay sprawled on the kitchen floor, sipping tea as her roommate reminded her to breathe. I’d like to say that this sort of breakdown is rare, that perhaps it was the culmination of months of stress and suppressed feelings that led to one emotional afternoon. But in reality, my emotional breakdowns occur a couple times each month. There is a reason my roommate knew so naturally how to respond.

I could say that social media allows me to portray myself in the light that I choose, that I create a false image of my sweet life by hiding behind the character of kvslice. But my portrayal of self is not constructed; it is indeed my reality. While I might not Instagram the emotional breakdowns, I do not withhold them from my writing. I write the stories of the conversations in which I engage, the books that I read, the thoughts that I ponder, the meals that I enjoy; I write them as a portrayal of a slice of my sweet life. Sometimes those conversations, thoughts, and meals include exploring my fears and anxieties but they always include belly-aching laughter. By writing about them under the assumption that they are a part of my sweet life, I force myself to view the things that trouble me in light of their ability to push me towards greater joy. By teaching myself to view my life as beautiful, I find glimmers of delight in the breakdowns. I learn from the moments that hurt and look for the blessings that might come from the sacrifices.

As I continue to engage with my blog, as I think ahead about my goals for the future and the actions I can take to walk in that trajectory now, I realize that my life is indeed pretty sweet. However, it is also not any different from everyone else around me. I have panic attacks on the kitchen floor, I worry about my finances, I overthink normal conversations, I banter with roommates about the boys I wish would notice my presence. When I sit down to write, I look for the areas of my life that are great and make a habit of viewing the lows in light of their ability to lead me to the highs. It helps make the sweet life reality. But to assure you that I’m not hiding behind false pretenses, for today we’ll call it A Vanderslice of the Semisweet Life.

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