Guilt trip..trap

Guilt is vicious. I know of it because I have been letting it rule my life since the very beginning. I have been guilty

of being sick, of not sharing my toys, of being born the wrong colour, of not socialising enough, of not showering enough, of being born the wrong gender, of enjoying my solitude, of leaving the laundry piled up, of not exercising enough, of lacking culinary skills, of refusing respect to those who think its their birthright, of not loving enough, of dreaming about the nobel prize, of realising I may never get the nobel prize, of letting my to-read pile grow, of not buying into the latest fad, of failing expectations of an ideal daughter, wife, mother, of choosing to have thoughts that doesn’t fit with my origin, of choosing to embrace my culture outside my home, of letting dust gather and sit comfortably on crevices that no one can see, of not bathing my son every day, of reading too much, of sharing too much, of sharing too little, of showing no emotions, of enjoying Spongebob squarepants, of refusing to watch Hindi movies, of refusing to participate in gossip, of trying to help, of declining to help, of working too much, of working too little, of wanting to be in nature, of turning off my phone, of avoiding people, of being comfortable in my home, of being too skinny, of being too dark, of giving birth to a baby that’s lighter than me, of refusing to change my last name, of losing hope, of being cynical, of enjoying dark humor, of being too confident, of failing to perfect my second language, of losing my mother tongue, of being too young, of being too old, of time passing, of death approaching, of life not lived, of not drinking enough tea, of refusing to be with people I don’t like, of shutting myself into a world of imagination, of dreaming too much during the day, of having too much time on my hands, of not choosing the right daycare, of cutting my hair short, of not wearing make up, of forgetting to iron my clothes, of wasting Earth’s resources, of leaving behind footprints that are of no value to the human race, of keeping secrets, of lying, of being proud, of being possessive, of feeling insecure, of hating my femininity, of unwanted attention, of lack of words to describe this cage of a world, of too much freedom, of re-reading my favourite books for the umpteenth time, of dreaming big, of not achieving those big dreams, of missing home, of not being grateful, of wanting more from life, of wanting to be a hermit, of choosing to write this, of not writing this earlier.

There are too many things to feel guilty about. I’m coming to the realisation that if it’s not an expectation I have of my self, then its not my guilt to carry. I am giving away my guilt so there is more space and time for living.

Any takers?