You have to.

I came home from UCLA last night to go to a family friend's wedding tonight on Valentine's Day. I don't know whether it was the hormones (they still haven't quite become my friends), a legitimate chemical imbalance in my brain, or if I actually have reason to feel the way I do, but I had breakdowns, again. Maybe I'd been holding it in over the past few weeks at school and finally reached my threshold sitting in the back seat of Dad's Ford last night. Or perhaps the Persian style bagel sandwich I had at breakfast (a family favorite) with Mom at the kitchen table brought back the feelings of simplicity associated with thoughts of my childhood, and consequently the completely erratic, roller coaster of emotions associated with my present self.

I broke down for the same "reasons" I tend to do so often now. And I'm tired of it. I'm tired of it and I want to fix myself. My family's tired of it, too, and recommend I see someone to help me fix myself. This version of Sheila, which is me but an unhappy, unforgiving, confused, scared me, is way too affected by external sources (i.e. PEOPLE). I'd like to call this version of Sheila: Sherona. 

Sherona sucks. But Sherona is helping Sheila. Sherona is helping Sheila realize how terrible it is to not do what you actually want in life. And how terrible and stunting it can feel when you let others' opinions supersede your own, and make you feel inferior and like a failure. 

Despite the breakthrough I had with my parents a few weeks ago, they will still be their same selves in certain respects, and I realize the umbilical cord is still there. Thankfully, my Mom's bagel sandwich session with Sherona this morning proved that she doesn't give a damn anymore what anyone else or she want me to do with my life. I think I've worried her enough with these breakdowns and unpredictable emotions. Even still, Sheila learned she needs to just "cut the umbilical cord," as Sara put so matter of factly tonight at the wedding.

Which brings me to the most touching moment of my night at the wedding.

The wedding was so warm. I danced and drank to my heart's content and rocked my red lipstick.

The bride's aunt Mina, one of Mom's best friends, has apparently been updated by Mom on my undulating state of being (this would explain her unexpected, supportive Facebook message the other day).

Tonight, as I held my high heels in my hand and made the rounds to say good-bye, Mina hugged and kissed me, and while still in her embrace, unexpectedly (though I could see it in her eyes that there was more there): told me the following:

Sheila, you have to do what you love. You have to follow your dreams. You can't think of the money or the prestige.

She told me that when she was in high school in Iran, they had to pick a "major" their first year. She picked business because she liked it, though it was seemingly "easier" than other fields. She told her favorite teacher-mentor that she felt like she should and could be doing the "harder" fields, that she could be doing something bigger than just business. 

He told her no. He told her that no matter what she did, to do it through love and passion, and do it well. He told her that she could become a doctor, but if she wasn't a good one by not doing it through love and passion, it would be worthless to her and the world. He told her that she could just as well become a janitor, and if she was a damn good one because she loved it, she would live a happy life.

She told me that if I live my life doing what someone else influenced me to do and I don't truly want to do it, I won't be living. I'll never be living until I'm doing what I want to do, and what I am passionate about, as cliche as that may seem.

 I always find that it takes me a years to internalize cliches and actually understand them for my own. Just btw.

 To really live, she said, I have to listen to myself. This, this notion is unfortunately very very foreign to me, if I'm to be honest with myself. But I am so happy that I believe this now.

She realized her true passion after 62 years on this Earth. Her's was to become a chef. She said that if she knew in her youth that she would get this much joy out of being as a chef, that who knows, she could have become the next Martha Stewart! But probably not. But who cares!? She could have worked in a restaurant and served people the best meals. That would be enough.

To get to wake up every day and love the work (as it will still be) that you choose to do, that is living. 

She ended with another hug and by telling me not to listen to all the parents and adults about everything (ironic), that they're just "old farts."

I love Mina. I love her more for telling me this story. I love her for being the family-related adult that no other adult is to me. I love that she actually told me to follow my dreams. I've never had an adult family member or family friend tell me that (despite movies, camps, school beating that idea over my head with a stick). It's just different to have a family friend say it, since I so intrinsically seek my parents' approval in all I do. This was just nice.

Thanks Mina, I will.