What to say to this teenager in need of life?

I found my teenage notebook. I’m 19. My life is hell. No one knows, no one sees it, no one tells me about it.

Don’t think you know your teens. You don’t know what they’re going through in the secret of the night.
I wrote almost every night. I wrote so I could sleep. My demons inhabited me. To relieve myself, I didn’t take drugs. I didn’t sacrifice myself. I didn’t give my body to the boys. I didn’t kill myself. No, I was writing so I wouldn’t die. Tears on every page. Questions on every line. Renouncements of life. Sometimes stories of murder and suicide. Only happy things.
Yet on the outside, I am a girl who laughs, looks good, is open and friendly—nothing to say about my school results or my behavior. I wear the mask well.
First page
“Oh… if you’re reading this, then I’m not in this world anymore. That I am dead, first of all, whoever you are, I do not regret my disappearance. I believe in a better world after death in this life. I especially think that it can not be worse.
Grief intrigues me. Why do people have this ability to experience more than just survival instincts? Why are we endowed with such intense and contradictory feelings, unlike other living beings? A man had to be born and differentiate himself from other animals. Let him feel and think. What purpose? Why is life on this Blue Earth? Why happiness and sorrow?
This letter is to tell you that I never found my way—a place where I could have flourished in peace with myself. I always felt like “not enough”. Not pretty enough, not funny enough, not smart enough, not brave enough, not generous enough, not ambitious enough, not disobedient enough, not party sufficient girl. Not enough of everything.
I always had the feeling that I made the wrong choices, that I chose my words wrong and that I was leading my destiny wrong. To lose myself in the decisions of others. And suffer from it. I never understood the reason for my existence among all human beings.”
A few pages later, I will be able to read that since November 2011,
I was considering giving it all up to become a writer. It had to, that it was one of my biggest dreams, and that if I did not respond to this impulse of writing, I was going to “miss a part of my life, as if I was making a mistake by denying a facet of myself”. Yet, I was paralyzed by the obstacles and the uncertainty of this path.
I am moved to meet this teenager again so far from who I am today.
Pages and pages blackened by discomfort, incomprehension, the desire for it to stop. Observe that everything was already there, expressed differently, of course, but the source was lively and very present!
Hundreds of photos of me that year, more of a woman than ever, as if to prove to myself that I exist, prove to me that I have a reflection, identity, and place.
What to tell him to this young adult who has lost the meaning of his life?
Life has so much to offer: patience!
In just three years, you will be making the best decision of your life. You will find the courage and the daring to make your dreams come true, everything you talk about and even the ones you don’t even dare to consider today. After traveling alone around the globe, you will publish a book about your adventures. Finally, you see you are going to become a writer…
Life has so much to offer. You are only the prototype of yourself, and there is everything to build, decide, and experience!
Growing up is learning to master this crazy energy that goes all over the place!
You are going through one of the worst times of your life. You will learn to understand, calm, control, and even play with these emotions, with these feelings of “too much” and “not enough”. They will become exact and powerful tools! And above all, they will calm down over time. It will be much more comfortable, don’t worry. It will all be behind you.
Friendship will give wind to your sails…
You will meet people of all ages and nationalities with whom to share and debate these existential questions that you ask yourself. You won’t find answers. Better, you will find the deep and vast feeling of entirely existing. That day, all of those metaphysical questions will stop haunting you. You will meet extraordinary people who will touch you to tears and transform you forever.
Go through the worst times of your life, to one day help others to do the same.
Better yet, it is because you have gone through such a difficult time of despair that you will be able to accompany others like you who are lost at any age in life. I. People who like you, at 20, have so many questions and so few answers—people who, like you, doubted their worth and wanted to stop everything.
And all of that is accepting the ups and downs of each wave.
Life will smile on you, Marion, and you will be challenged to grow, evolve, walk time and time again. You will even find yourself making the right decisions, the ones that will teach you lessons and guide you to the one you are deep inside.

What the web knows about you

How is your data collected? What purpose? How to protect them? We will tell you more.
How is your data collected?
In several ways. For example, when creating an account to access the services of a site or when making an online purchase, you will fill out a form asking you about your identity, your age, your addresses (postal and digital), etc.
It can also be done:
● Via cookies allow the pages you visit and the searches you carry out to be recorded. Objective: to know your purchasing intentions, affinities, etc.
● Via your browser: browsing history, download history, etc.
● Via social networks: “like” a given event, subscriptions, searches, etc.
Why is my data collected?
Collected by your browser and social networks, they will then be sold to companies that can adapt their communication to your profile. But rest assured: The General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR), which entered into force in May 2018, provides some protection. For example, companies must first obtain written, clear and explicit consent from the Internet user before processing personal data.
How to protect your data?
– Block cookies. To do this, go to your browser settings and check “Refuse cookies”;
– Use the private browsing of your browser;
– Use a VPN. The principle of a Virtual Private Network is to create an Internet connection between your computer and a virtual server, also called a tunnel (often located abroad), while end-to-end encryption of the data therein. Exchanged. It becomes impossible to identify you and even less to monitor your activity on the Internet;
– Disable GPS geolocation on your Smartphone when it is not needed.

The power of my vulnerability

In a society where we are educated as heroes triumphant over wicked, where we must be tall and robust, where life is seen as a struggle, real courage is found in our hidden, timid, fearful faces.

I hold back my tears… in a shapeless and hideous grimace. All this so as not to cry in front of him, them, her. I apologize for being taken by emotion. I find myself stupid. I want to hide. I hide in my hands, behind my hair. And if I could, I would go a long way, ashamed.
This scene I have experienced often
I still live it, and above all, I see it, attend, and accompany it. During my workshops and my training, it is not uncommon for participants to be subject to emotional turmoil, awakenings, and crack. Right now, something magical is happening in the air—the group dynamic changes. Everything becomes soft, sensitive, luminous. A source of perpetual wonder is found in their tears.
Deep inside me, a little girl exults with joy and gratitude. For a few seconds, she finally witnesses the manifestation of what is most precious in the other.
This moment when the armor cracks, when everything shatters, when the inner earth breaks to give birth to the tsunami that will come to sweep, cleanse everything.
A priceless gift that everyone should afford
That of being vulnerable in the eyes of all. And in this same spirit, we – who are observers – are the receptacle of this magnificent present that opens our hearts.
A tiny movement is then created: our gaze enters within ourselves, inward to see our reflection, our echo, to this vulnerability that touches us and speaks to us of our shared humanity.
“Our common humanity is absolutely not in our successes. »Dominique Steiler, TEDxIsereRiver 2013
As the joy of victories and accomplishments inspires and pushes outward, sadness creates a bond that allows everyone to be carried in an inner movement.
I forge a link with the other, of course, but also with myself.
I connect with this person who opens her privacy in front of me, and she lays down everything fragile in her. Its fears, its flaws, its disappointments, its failures, its wounds, its history. The other opens a door for me that I never knew of my vulnerability to connect to it.
In my life experiences, I have learned much more by showing myself to be vulnerable than by trying to play my role as a “strong girl”.
Vulnerable does not mean “weak.”
While the common belief, implicit and firmly held, is that showing off, confessing, and assuming fragile is a danger to public order. We would immediately be considered “weak”.
However, on the contrary, vulnerability arises in the space of force—the strength to express something different.
The strength to be accurate, to dare to walk the least comfortable, the least safe path, with an open heart to all possibilities.
No one can hurt a moose that leaves this mighty place. Nothing and no one can attack the space of truth where you get ahead of the blows by assuming who you are. If you feel hurt, another side of you feels and speaks to you – not rooted in vulnerability – and that demands attention, care, and listening.
These situations where I have sweeties
The ones where I can’t “be the fighter”, the ones where I need others, the ones where I confess I’m lost, the ones where I don’t have all the answers, all the solutions. And once the hard times passed, when they presented themselves, I was never disappointed to have taken this step.
Looking back, I realize that I put myself in a vulnerable position as soon as I had the chance.
A year was traveling alone 15,000 km from home, then a year moving to Canada on my own, intellectual and emotional challenges, unfamiliar contexts, skills that I did not have, wounds from the past that have recurred.
So many risk-taking, moments of discomfort – even moments when fear seized my guts in a wholly irrational and agonizing way – that made me grow up.
I owe it more to my will to walk towards my fragility than to my “easy” victories in my personal and professional development.
Victories that did not appeal to this slight vibration in the belly and in the heart that tells you”I’m afraid”, “I don’t think I can do it”, “it’s dangerous for you”, “and if…?”.
The path of fragility reveals our true courage.
Whether it is “successful” or not, the purpose does not detract from the lived experience, and in any case, successful – it – since it is rich in lessons. There are no opportunities to take another path, evolve, or prove to yourself that you are capable of daring.
The success of any project is made up of failures and disappointments, deviations and disappointments, all of which make us reconsider our perception of the path best suited to our life.
It is by planting things that you can grow.
The milestones for success, the happy ends, are only more significant and more satisfying! Urge us to move even further in this direction, where fragility becomes the most beautiful proof of courage for oneself and others.

In praise of love, you my madness.

For Valentine’s Day, treat yourself to a reading filled with wisdom and poetry that will change your view of commitment, of the couple, and true love.

“There is a bone marrow disrespect for commitment today. Entering into the service of life is a duty of honor.
But who thought of saying it? Tell the spouses that they are leaving without a return ticket for an odyssey and that the journey will also take them through dark forests and desert steppes? and that they will experience weariness, the feeling of becoming strangers to each other and oneself? […]
Who has dreamed of telling them that only one thing will carry them: fidelity to their highest hope – to what they have been given to foresee at the moment when they loved each other the most! Let them know that this madness, this fragrance, this clairvoyance which will perhaps have lasted only the time to beat the eyelashes, is nevertheless the only rock on which a life is built and that it is fidelity to this madness – because it alone is the (dis) measure of love.”
In praise of marriage, commitment and other follies – Christiane Singer
This book has undoubtedly changed my life, allowing me to open my eyes and my heart.
I tremble with emotions
… to (re) reading those wonderfully just words that already instilled their wisdom in me last April, when I met him, and my head was guided by the fear that told me to flee and that I remain.
Remained when the winds and the tides came to strike our bodies and our hearts; put a strain on our still fragile ship, barely used to sea spray.
Remained, always,
… Because for the first time, a new, unknown, rebellious harmony resounds with vigor, the one that anchors the impulses in everyday life and the material.
One who resists, the one who persists, the one who perseveres, and who knows the value of time and patience. Second chances. The commitment.
Linked to share the same territory,
… The exact directions, the same storms, under the pale reflections of the Moon, connected to the Cosmos, which weaves our destiny in its designs.
By your side, I learn to challenge and untie the wounds of my story, you who have access to the darkness of my backstage.
I dreamed of freedom and emotional independence,
… Then, I was caught in the whirlwind of my vulnerability to you. I doubted, sometimes I gave up in secret. I thought about stopping everything, too used to throwing in the towel when the sky darkens. Still, there was this little thing that was holding me back.
Stone after stone, the tower is being built, ever more vital, evermore in tune with this new US.

Cheerful trip to Asia.

Dating in Malaysia
As far back as I can remember, since high school indeed, I have always wanted to go far away, to live elsewhere. This is what I did after my nursing studies. I moved to Reunion Island for five years. My first dream came true, but it was not enough yet. I wanted to go far away, to a culture different from mine, alone, with no time or space limit. I felt the need for it deeply. Not doing it was like living next to my life. So I quit my job, returned to my apartment, kissed my boyfriend one last time, and took a flight to Bangkok. Then a second for Chiang Mai, a city in northern Thailand, where I started my first work on a horse farm. My job? Take the horses out of the paddock and accompany the tourists on day trips. Then I realized another dream, that of riding alone on horseback.

Through another volunteer from this horse farm (an Austrian one), I met a group of travelers who had met themselves at a youth hostel in the city. People who traveled like me, alone and who came from all over the world. From that day on, I wasn’t alone for a single day on my trip – at least, to Malaysia. I met some of these travelers. We crossed Laos together, met other fellow travelers, then Cambodia. We laughed, from the first word exchanged in the morning, still in our dorm beds, to the last traded in the evening, sometimes until the middle of the night. I felt free, even though I could see there was always a limit. But freed from all responsibility, I felt lighter. I had no idea what tomorrow would bring or where I would be, but I knew anything was possible.

Dating Cambodia
Our paths all parted in Kampot, Cambodia. A page that was turning. I also chose to travel to find myself alone, face with myself. So that’s what I did in Malaysia. Weeks, independently, constantly moving, meeting people but fleetingly.

island Malaysia
And then, this virus, whose name sometimes appeared in conversations between travelers, this virus was more and more heard. One day my ex from Reunion called me. I was then on an island. I was looking at the sea. He told me that things are getting worse and that a choice will be imposed on me, that of returning very soon or remaining stranded for an indefinite time at the other end of the world. I told her that I was never the type to take precautions and would only turn back when I got to the end of the road.
Two days later, as I leave this island to continue my journey, I take a boat with dozens of travelers rushing to the airport, taking the last flights home before Singapore closes its doors. I think the world has gone mad. I think I might be missing my chance, maybe the last, to get home. But I will continue. Only to find myself confined to the city afterward. I moved into a hostel, where I met a group of about fifteen people, from 20 to 80 years old, “backpackers”. We all live together, happily, the start of confinement in Malaysia. We are comfortable there, we each have our little wooden hut, we go to the beach during the day, and we meet in the evening to play cards or talk together. We hear news from our respective countries. The Italian is worried, his whole family is there, and the situation is more than catastrophic in Italy. The Australian has lost a friend to cover. We watch it from afar. Our countries are asking us to return as soon as possible. But we stayed. What’s the best out there? The void is much more present there, and by limiting our movements, we also restrict its propagation.