musings of a 17 y/o girl - #1

Ever since I was younger than I am now, I've had some sort of issue with my sense of self. I've always wanted to conform or do what others were doing, it felt as though I had to in order to avoid scrutiny and reproach. This caused me to adapt the behaviors, actions, and even speech of those around me; in short, I became them. It was as though I was so scared of authenticity, that I'd scrub myself clean of it if it were to peak out ever so slightly. As a result, this caused me to lose who I was and be unable to recognize what I am and what my purpose is.

I looked down on myself more often than not, and would diminish my own humanity. It felt as if I only existed to make people believe I'm the most agreeable person they would ever meet. I feared voicing my opinions, I feared saying no, I feared straying from the masses. It is because of this that instead of human, I saw myself as a vessel in which others could pour themselves into. The mixes of different personalities I've encountered coagulated, becoming something indiscernable and murky.

It was so hard, not being "me", whoever that was. I never allowed myself to form a concrete depiction of what "me" could be, but I knew I was not it. If something was wrong, I'd never speak out. If someone wronged me, I'd never speak up. I would lie, lie my way into groups, lie my way out of conflict. I would always nod yes and never no, I would always do what I was told. This need to be rigidly benign and saint-like began forming parasitic flesh eating monsters that began to chew upon my artificial skin. These parasites gnawed, chipping away the persona I created.

The bubbly, sweet girl that everyone loved slowly dissipated; she who was gifted, a role model, prim & proper, became obsolete. She became distant, unapproached, deathly silent, and uninviting. When high school came, I despised being around people. This wasn't the little girl who'd always make friends, this was a girl who was riddened with anxiety and self-contempt. It was as though I was walking on a floor with sharp nails and glass strewn apart, and every wrong thing I said cut the soles of my feet ten times deep.