“You wear a mask for so long, you forget who you where beneath it.” V For Vendetta
It’s the age old topic really. It’s a cliche 20s problem. And no matter how cool you are or how pretty or how many friends you have the reality is every single 20 something year old can identify with it at some point or another in their life.
I think part of the problem is its actually quite hard to know who you are. When I was 11 years old and had just started secondary school I had no idea who I was. I was a gawky little kid with no friends because I was different and weird. I liked reading and I worried about life and death and the afterlife. Problems other kids my age just weren’t thinking about. I used to walk down to the nuns graveyard (thats right, our school had a graveyard for nuns) and put flowers on their graves and say prayers cause I worried that if nobody prayed for them they might not get to heaven. I was.. well, different.
Don’t worry, theres a kind of happy ending. I made friends after a while and eventually I earned my spot in the “popular group” and like most other teenagers people abused it, using it to exclude and abuse those that “didn’t belong”. I would like to believe that during those next few years I grew up. I learnt the importance of respect and kindness. I decided I wanted to be a Social Worker, to root for the under dog. To embrace the differences in people, to befriend the weirdos because I guess somewhere deep inside thats who I would always be. And I was okay with that.
Eventually I was left with a group of close friends. Friends who knew exactly who I was. Who laughed when I told stories over drinks. Who looked the other way when I fucked up. Friends who not only accepted my quirks, but who loved me for those quirks. I wasn’t different when I was with them, I was interesting. I guess what we don’t realise is how much of our character and how much of our own acceptance of ourselves is based around this acceptance from other people.
When we don’t have it we attempt to change the parts of our character we feel are discouraging our chances of acceptance. We long for the acceptance of people and groups that we’re not even sure we want to be a part of. We attempt to fit ourselves into boxes that are just too small. Into groups that we just don’t belong in. And for what?! So we can pat ourselves on the back for how many friends we have? Partly. So we can have someone to go drinking with at the weekend? It helps.
But the real reason is because only when they have accepted us, can we finally accept ourselves. And that is so fucking sad.
I might not be pretty or popular. I might not be athletic or musically talented. I might not converse easily with people I don’t know. I might not say the right things or wear the right clothes but I am someone. I am someones best friend and someones annoying little sister. I am someone who could spend hours reading and writing, someone who likes to talk about politics and corruption. Someone who not only strives to understand myself and this life better, but seeks to improve them.
And for now, thats exactly who I want to be.
This is breathing 