I met a guy back in September last year. He seemed like the sort I’d be surprised by- and I was- just not pleasantly. I did manage to surprise me though, pleasantly. For the first time, just like any other teenager, I went to the movies with a group of friends. This guy and his group. They’d extended an invitation and I was so pleased with how things seemed to be going between us- of course I was going to accept. What else was there to do?
I live with less regrets than I did when I was younger so I won’t say the last seven months were spent uselessly. I got a taste of the normal life, the one I can’t and never have seemed to be able to embrace. I like the quiet, the solace that comes only from empty rooms. I like intellectuals; emotional stimulation. Many people my age just don’t fit the bar. I’ve realised this is not about them or myself at all. It’s about the divide that comes from having frequent experiences that are worlds apart- and traumatic.
This guy that I’d placed so much faith in, who had seemed different, who I’d felt I connected with, was somehow not on the same page as me. I am not offended by someone not being interested in me. That’s just how it is. It’s a part of being real, honest and authentic with yourself and others. Not everyone is for you and that’s okay. It’s a different feeling though when someone says they just don’t like you. That your messages, the few you’ve sent, have gone unanswered for months simply because you weren’t worth the truth or good enough, apparently, to be friends with. That was disappointing, because I’d expected more. I mean, seven months later and I’d had to hear it from a friend of his.
I figured out that it wasn’t about being hung up on a supposed friendship gone wrong, but more about how I’d felt when I was with this guy. Like, for once, I was on the same page as somebody my age.
If I’m being honest, what had gone on played into a deep fear of mine that if somebody can dislike me for no reason, without having even seen the truth about me, what hope is there? This is a theme I’ve been exploring a lot lately and have seen reflected in many different ways. This idea of not being accepted for who we truly are, yet not being able to change anything about ourselves- or wanting to. We all have a dark passenger inside us that sometimes isn’t content to sit in the back or the front seat. It wants to be the driver of our life, our only thought and main motivation. We are people, messy and misunderstood.
As I sit back and reflect on this situation, only one point comes to mind- I’m not here to be liked, I’m here to be me. There is nothing wrong with me nor is anything personal, despite how much it had seemed that way. It is the nature of fickle people. I don’t like to shy away from being real here or in my personal life, because I owe it to myself to best live out my truth. To represent myself in a way that honours who I am and what I believe. I’ll continue to do that and let other people’s reactions be a product of their own thoughts and beliefs.
I have a post scheduled to go up soon. It discusses, briefly, the single most impactful event of my life. I say that with zero hesitation. To tell that story, even in just a few words, is remarkably difficult. It’s a level of vulnerability I haven’t yet shown on here, despite all I’ve shared about illness and various other things that have seemed to shadow me my entire life.
This post here in many ways is all about firsts. I know when my other post eventually goes up, it will also be a first. While what I speak about is not a first, the circumstances of it are more unusual and I have yet to find another person who knows that particular pain. Once again, I come back to this- I am not here to be liked, I am here to be me.
When you go through any hurtful event, you are changed by it, whether in ways small or large. I learnt that there are many ways to commiserate with other people- while hearing of their losses broke my heart just as much as mine continues to do, the silence had been broken. It started to feel okay to speak about. You started to feel strong speaking of the events that left a tornado in their wake. When you get to that place you never thought you’d reach, you realise who and what you are. Somebody resilient beyond measure who needs very little, but wants and expects a lot more- and that’s okay.