I Choose Happiness (dedicated to my 17-year-old-self)

Written By Bex Bassin (Originally published in the Fall/Winter 2022 issue of The Circle Magazine)

I remember when I first expressed wanting to be happy as a life goal. I chose those words as my life aspiration for my high school senior yearbook. I had the distinct impression that others thought it was a naive choice. When answering the often-asked question "what do you want to be when you grow up?" with “happy,” I could see the mix of confusion, judgment, and maybe pity cross their faces. I’m not a mind reader, so I don’t know if their actual thoughts matched what I observed, but I internalized their reaction.

I can recall adults at the time (teachers, mentors, and the like) explaining to me in my innocence that being happy isn’t something that can be achieved. “Sure,” they’d say, “your life will have moments of happiness, but it’s unrealistic to think you can have it permanently.”

I wish what happened next happened differently. I know I can’t go back, and if given the chance, I don’t know that I would actually change any of it. But, I do wish that the 17-year-old version of me had the courage and self-trust to look those "adults" in the eye and say, "I'm sorry you don't have enough happiness in your life. I'd love to help you with that."

Instead, I slowly adopted their beliefs as my own. "Happiness is not a state to be achieved." Not simply because it's impossible, but because it's not a meaningful choice.

Perhaps it was all just a semantic misunderstanding? Maybe my understanding of the word happiness was different from theirs? I had the impression that their version included silliness. Perhaps it was incompatible with seriousness, meaning I could not become a successful member of the community in a worthwhile or legitimate profession.

I spent the next 17 years of my life working my ass off to live up to someone else's definition of success. I can’t even tell you who that someone was. She was an amalgam of other people’s versions of success, which was very hard to untangle. Several nameless, faceless ambitions created a moving target of achievement that could never be reached. While happiness was still the illusive carrot dangled in front of me to get there, I just made myself jump through all those hoops placed in my path by others. The part that breaks my heart is that I completely dismissed my 17-year-old self’s desires and vision of success. My life did not bear a resemblance to her hopes and dreams.

When I finally started to pay attention to the man behind the curtain and realized that the joke was on me, I had moments of happiness that felt directly connected to and inspired by my younger self. In reclaiming the joy and happiness, my inner 17-year-old desired, my work was to debunk this conditioning and undo the hold all those false beliefs had on me. Not only had I put happiness out of reach for myself, but as an added bonus, I created a story that I must not be smart (enough). If I could desire something so foolish as being happy, then clearly, I missed a few memos about what was supposed to be important in life. I grew up in the Northeast, where I’m convinced there is something in the water about the need for suffering to prove one’s worth. The concept that those who suffer the most win made an unfortunate impression on me.

I recognized my healing work and alignment with my younger self created a shift when I read a quote by Waylon Lewis in January of 2020: “It’s never too late to fall in love with your life." I knew he was speaking directly to me, and it was the message of forgiveness from my 17-year-old self. I am now delighted in my commitment to keep her goal of happiness prominently featured in my revised definition of success. The only permission I needed was my own.