I’ve been going back and forth for a few days now about what to talk about today. I tend to pull inspiration from the world around me. So, when things are constantly changing, I get to be more indecisive about my topics. There has been so much that has happened in the last few weeks. My brain is wonky because of it. Some of the things have been amazing. I can’t begin to express the amount of excitement and cautious optimism that’s coursing through me. But not everything is covered in rainbows and loose glitter. So, where do I start? I’ve been asking myself that question for the last twelve hours. I think the answer is me. Or who I was. I need to lose the pieces people created. I need to say goodbye to the person people wanted me to be. I’m not sure who I am or who I was. But I know I’ve let people influence my personality, my ambitions, and every other piece of me. Enough is finally enough for me. I’m ready to find me again; I’m bringing all of you with me!
On some level, I understand the weight a single conversation can hold. I mean, when I stop and think about it, a single conversation introduced me to all of you. As encouraging as a conversation can be, it can also be oppressing. Part of me hates to admit that it took me 25 years and 11 months to learn that. The other part of me is happy it finally happened. Better late than never, right?
Has anyone ever thought about how many conversations we have in our lifetime? People start talking to us before we even find our voice. But does a voice make any difference? For me, my voice has never felt like it’s made a difference. Like, it’s not my best way to communicate. I feel like my voice has more importance when it’s muted. I say more when it’s on paper. I’ve always favored being a listener. It eases my tongue-tied ways. But maybe it’s had more of an impact. They say less is more. Sure, most things are better in small quantities. Like, makeup or sweets or your current favorite song. But what about speaking up?
I like being a quiet person. I fancy myself a wallflower. You know, I see things. I keep quiet about them. And I understand them. The perks of being a wallflower was my holy grail.
Every once in a while, I find my strong voice. My strong voice never goes over well.
Last night, I was talking to an old friend. This friend and I haven’t been on the same page for a very long time. Tensions were rising last night until they hit a boiling point. In the name of full disclosure, this friendship is comfortable. This friend has known me for most of my life. They get me. Or so I thought. For the first time, I was able to have a new perspective. I’ve never explored perspectives. I’ve always taken everything at face value. There’s no excuse for my faith in humanity. Or my belief in the benefit of the doubt. I can only remind myself so many times that “it was the heat of the moment.” Or “they’re just not happy with themselves.” They didn’t mean it the way you took it. It was time to break my own heart. They do mean what they say.
The epiphany hit me like a freight train.
This friend has changed me for the better and the worst. Last night was crushing and liberating all within an hour. It was another round of how horrible this friend thinks I am. Please, don’t get me wrong. I’m not a perfect person. I obsessively strive for perfection, but no one is perfect. As humans, we make mistakes. But I refuse to let my mistakes define me as a person. It’s no secret that I have struggles. I’ve been very open about my struggles with anorexia, body dysmorphia, and anxiety. I have my issues, but who doesn’t? These issues have had a hold on my life for a decade. But so have people in my life. Fighting to fit in boxes that I haven’t created is exhausting. I never realized how many versions of perfect I was establishing. Looking back, it was living as a chameleon. I was adjusting to a different version of myself to fit everyone else’s idea of me. But what was my idea of me?
I don’t handle emotions well. I’ve never been an emotional person. Don’t ask me why! I just don’t know how to express them. It’s sort of like speaking. Everything just flows better on paper. It’s my safe space; I’m okay with that. My other safe heaven is music. Whether I’m singing it or leaving it to the professionals, it works for me. People use my lack of emotions as ammunition. If I had a nickel for every time someone has thrown that in my face, I could pay for college four times over. I understand that being “emotionless” isn’t okay. It’s something I’m trying to fix. But honestly, who isn’t working on themself? That’s another part of being a human, constantly working to be the best version of yourself. It’s also just the natural course of growing up.
The biggest problem with knowing someone. And I mean really knowing someone. Is knowing what buttons to push. My friend is no exception. Our fights are like taking a toddler on an elevator. You click your floor number; once they see it light up, they want to press all the buttons. Then the elevator is stuck. You’re hitting the same floors while it tries to figure out what to do. The elevator eventually has to stop. And sometimes it’s not your floor.
I finally stopped pressing buttons. It wasn’t my floor, but I still got off. I started to agree with my friend. I don’t think my low self-esteem is a secret. I don’t exactly think highly of myself. I’m fixing it. Or at least trying. But there’s something about thinking poorly about yourself and realizing someone thinks it too. My friend wasn’t outright calling me horrible. They were picking apart my flaws, then serving them up on a silver platter. Once I boiled over, I started apologizing for all of my issues. I started apologizing for everything I do wrong. I called myself a horrible person. My friend didn’t dispute it.
The realization of someone’s true feelings is harsh. There’s no candy-coating it.
Like I said, I am not a perfect person. I have made mistakes. But I won’t let someone make me a horrible person because I outgrew their idea of me.
I’ve had so many people in my life that have had strong opinions about me. I invite constructive criticism. Help me be a better version of myself, please! But there’s a fine line between constructive criticism and changing someone. I blame a lot of it on naive ages. As kids, we’re still learning how to develop relationships. We’re very much in that “Please, like me” stage. And I am not blaming anyone in my life for having such a strong influence. It’s very much my fault. I just wanted to be liked. I wanted to feel accepted so badly; I turned my back on myself.
It hurts my heart to think back to the lost years. There are so many moments I wish I could undo. As I got older, I realized when feeding into people caused more harm than good. I’ve hated myself for a long time. But I used to hate myself for not being good enough. These days I’ve hated myself for more reasons than I care to admit. The number one reason, not knowing who I am.
I’ve been affected by so many people; I’ve held on to every negative word they’ve said. But that ends right here, right now, with all of you.
I’m ready to find pieces of who I was and piece them with the new ones. So, I’m starting simple. I’m doing things I used to do, things that feel like me, like blasting an acoustic playlist to inspire these words. I’m doing stuff for myself. I’m stepping away from the last few pieces of my past selves. As ridiculous as it sounds, I’m having conversations with myself. I’m becoming my biggest confidant for the time being. I’m encouraging some of the traits that people have hated most. Like, keeping quiet when I want to. Or by being the nice person that I am. Without someone accusing me of being a flirt. I’ve found my lane; I’m happy to stay here.
I understand change is inevitable. I’m not trying to stunt that. I’m just trying to find the core of myself again. It’s like going home after years of being away. You have new things to offer, a new outlook on life. But parts of you will fall back into old habits because there is no place like home. I just want to go home. I want to show her she hasn’t lost the pieces that make her who she is. I want to show her the stronger, best version she can be. I want to make her proud.
I don’t know who needs to hear (read) this, but I want to encourage you to be your most authentic self. It’s easy to be influenced by those around us. It’s even easier to mistake opinions for constructive criticism. If I’ve learned anything, it’s that people come and go. Whether they’re friends or someone you spoke with casually at a bar. There is always that chance that they’ll fall out of your life faster than they fell into it. But at the end of the day, you’re always going to be there. You are your ride or die. No matter how many people stick around. So, are you happy with yourself?
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