When people ask me if I’m happy, I’m always at loss for words. I only know how to answer truthfully and the truth is–I don’t know how to answer that, it’s not something I really think about and it shocks me a little bit to have to define my current state of being. I hate that.
“Are you happier now that you’re in California?”
You mean, like, happy about the weather here? Happy about my job here? Happy with my life?
What a loaded question!
Back in New York, I was unhappy about my job, yes. I was unhappy about living at home, yes. But I was happy with my friends. Having a close family. My body. My interests. My fitness routine. I wanted to try a new lifestyle. I wanted to get out of my comfort zone. I wasn’t seeking happiness elsewhere.
So often people believe happiness will happen when conditions are met. Perhaps they are wondering if I have met my conditions to be happy. I can be anywhere and be happy. I can be anywhere and be depressed. Nervous. Scared. Shy. Angry. Insecure.
Answering “no” would just make me seem like an oddball. How can you NOT be happy in California?
Answering “yes” would give the impression that I’m at a constant steady state of happiness, which isn’t true.
*Shrug. Emotions just come and go. Ask me something more specific. I’m always willing to share my truth.
When asked closed-ended questions, I feel like I have to answer to what is socially appropriate. Which I hate. I hate having to define myself. I refuse to. Worse, I hate it when someone defines me for me. Just because I lack a clear cut answer most of the time, it does not mean I’m indecisive or I’m clueless. although it may seem that way. I’m actually super decisive. People just don’t like the endless possibilities that’s in the answer I offer.