Do you ever feel like everything you think/say/do/feel has already been thought/said/done/felt? Like there’s no way for you to contribute any originality to this world?
I feel like that all the time, but somehow I don’t let it stop me from thinking/talking/acting/feeling. Does that even make sense?
I want to tell you a tale, my dear readers. Let me tell you about the way I figured out that something was different about me.
I don’t have that nexus story you read about how one experience changed everything and made someone realize they were xyz.
I have a bunch of experiences that made me who I am.
It feels like I happened by accident, like somehow I crafted myself from this hodgepodge of experiences. A thrown together person, like I picked up my traits, thoughts, feelings, etc. from a pile off the floor, smelled them to see if they were clean, and gave a little shrug as I pulled them on.
You know that cookie cutter person that we’re taught to be? Mild mannered, clean, presentable, passive, good little worker bees?
I tried that and it turns out that I’m really bad at being that person.
It’s almost like that person never really existed, but only appeared as a figment in other people’s minds as who they wanted me to be.
Do you know what happens when you end up not being that person?
For a long time, it felt a little like everything in my life was shifted an inch to the left from where it should’ve been. I felt wrong every day.
People really don’t like it when you aren’t who they think you are. And that made me not like myself because I didn’t fit in with what I was “supposed” to be.
It’s scary to say, but I’ve had experiences with people that have made me afraid. I’ve had people say mean things to me. I’ve endured their uncomfortable looks. The malice in some people can expand into violence, I’ve come to find.
Why do I put up with it, you may wonder?
The good (along with the neutral) outweigh the bad. I’ve found that being myself outweighs the negatives.
When I look in the mirror, I see me. I don’t always love, or even like, what I see, but I rarely ever hate what I see. I no longer try to fit into the mold that other people want to force me into.
There is simplicity in the complexity of my life and who I am. And, honestly, that’s all I want.