Swear Not to Settle

My senior year of high school, I swore never to settle. There wasn't any particular reason that sparked it other than a realization of how common it was around me that lead to an immense fear that someday I would succumb to it. Tonight, while talking to two of my most admirably ambitious friends, I admitted to them and myself that I had already settled. It was easily a chart climber in top depressing conversations of my life and I think they would agree because sadly, I wasn't the only one who had settled.

In reflecting upon what I've learned during my first year at college, I noted the numerous things that I hadn't-academic challenges, character challenges, development of goals. The only thing that I could even list that I'd learned was how to live more simply. How to slow down, take days by days, needs by needs and maintain self love in the life I've settled for. I don't know what's more heartbreaking, breaking a lifelong promise to myself in 12 months or settling for a life I didn't dream of so young. Furthermore, one of my friends said that she thinks it's a necessary skill to gain, the ability to settle, because we are all let down. I wanted so badly to believe that it wasn't true, but reflecting back on it I do wonder how right she was.

Here I am, 19 years old and moderately dissatisfied with where I am, but I can't seem to walk away. See, I've gone and done the worst thing a young girl who never meant to settle can do, and that's that I've filled my life with a few amazing people that I can't bare the thought of not having near. There are many imperfections in my life that I complain about, as well as many different people I pass with dislike. However, I happen to have best friends and a boyfriend so worthy of my heart that I couldn't be without them. So, I'm still not too sure where that leaves me now, maybe somewhere between tragic and grateful. My hope is that not just me, but all of us, can begin to find our dreams again and ourselves enough to un-settle what we've already settled for.

Swedish Decor

Today I went to IKEA, the Swedish home furnishing store adored by majority of Americans. Aside from my typical suspicion that homes in Sweden aren't actually made up of much resembling the model rooms showcased by Ikea, I also became suspicious of why Americans adore Ikea. It's not even just Americans, it's most of Western civilization that seems to be completely unaware of the mediocre (but ever so affordable) quality of their products. I presume that it has something to do with the organization and arguable practicality of all that is on display seeing as that is exactly what pulls me in every time. I used to think the model rooms were fun to walk through. In fact, I even thought that while I was there. Who doesn't enjoy moving from one perfect living room to another and finding a series of perfect kitchens on the other side of a door frame? No one, right? Wrong. Aaron doesn't. He informed me today that he thinks the showrooms are freaky. I disagreed until I imagined looking down on Ikea from an aerial view. Person after couple after family follows arrows through various physical displays of furniture and decor arrangements in hopes that the materialistic maze they have entered will serve its sole purpose of presenting to them materials to purchase. It's a little bizarre, maybe a little freaky.

Anyway, I succumbed to my consumer desires and let my mother buy me a desk. I reassured myself that it's okay because "I need it" and it makes me feel like Carrie Bradshaw, which are easily two of the best reasons that a girl can give for buying anything.