A lot of people talk about needing to grieve who you thought you’d be by now, or the life you thought you’d have after a traumatic experience. What they don‘t seem to talk about is how hard it is to miss the parts of you that were never really there to begin with. You reflect and realize you never really were that much of a “nice person”, or that you never once actually had it all together like you pretended to. You were never the daughter that was adored, the sister that was looked up to, or the friend that someone couldn’t live without. You never had lots of friends or support, and you never really liked any of the admirable things you were pursuing in life. Admitting this kind of thing to yourself can be hard, but it’s important to realize that anything you’ve done or created within yourself in the past was probably done for your survival. You were likely playing a role that was written for you long before you were even born, and realizing this can be devastating.
Who I thought I was was who my parents loved. I did my best to act out the role that they created of “perfect daughter”, and I did a really fucking good job if I do say so myself. But it wasn’t me so it wasn’t manageable - and I didn’t know it wasn’t me until I lost it all. The me that had a good career and house of my own is someone I don’t even recognize now, and I don’t feel any sort of pride for the person she was. Her accomplishments? Yep, amazing. A house at 25 by herself, a good paying job, a decently fun social life, all while having crippling social anxiety is something I am definitely proud of. But there was an emptiness behind it that I have a hard time describing even to myself. I wasn’t doing it for me - I was doing it to feed the monster that my obsession over my outward image had become. What other people thought of me mattered more than what I thought of me - to be truthful I didn’t ever reflect on what I thought of me. I had no real concept of “self”, and assumed everyone was just choosing who they wanted to be in the same way I was. I borrowed bits and pieces of personalities that I found interesting or impressive, but then was confused when I didn’t get the same responses as the original owner of the identity.
In “choosing” my own personality traits, I eventually had to admit that most of the things I thought I was were actually just things I admired in other people. This realization was devastating. I had no idea who I was, but it somehow felt worse that I now knew who I wasn’t. At first I wanted to give up completely, because I thought there was no point in trying for a life if I didn’t know who I was or what I wanted. Thankfully over the last couple of years I realized that admiring something in someone else, or having a longing for something, means you likely do have that quality or talent in you. You just have to foster it in a way that it’s YOURS. Adidas doesn’t need to put out an Air Jordan shoe to be successful. Be your own shoe.
Anyway, beyond that shoe analogy, it’s important to realize that there is NO RIGHT WAY TO BE. But there is a wrong way, and that’s only if you’re being anything other than what comes naturally to you. Follow that little voice in your heart and you’ll become who you never imagined you could be.