Three

THE ACHIEVER: Success-oriented and pragmatic. Adaptive, excelling - driving and image-conscious

I believed that it was my purpose to evolve. I would fit your expectations. I would prove to the world that the best of the best was attainable. At least, it was for me. So honestly, I felt perfectly comfortable under your conditional spotlight as if it was the only place I was truly designed to be. Your admiration was everything to me in that moment. Everything. I trusted that this stage was designed for me and my shoes were rooted confidently on the wooden platform. I was confident, if not anxious and worn thin. The only unfortunate thing was that I forgot the title of the play I was performing somewhere in between the endless cues and curtain calls. My lines were near perfect, but my sense of familiarity was somehow missing. What was my role again? What was it that I wanted to say? The thought was somehow uncomfortable. In reality, I had abandoned my wavering heart somewhere behind a parade mask of selected highlights before I even had the time to consider why.

Quietly and backstage, I stared into the mirror; but wasn’t really certain on what I saw. It was impossible to figure out whether my blurry reflection was something grand or less than loveable. I turned this way and that, searching every angle that you could possibly view from. I desperately fished for what it was that you wanted to see and turned vain for hours, years even. Slowly, the mirror became yours instead of mine. Sometimes, I felt like a stranger to myself.

But I was too keenly aware of the sinking chasm resting just at the edge of my shoes promising a life of oblivion if I were to ever grow too careless. I didn’t know what type of fate awaited those that failed to rise above the jagged edge, but I knew that I never wanted to find out. I would climb with trophies as my footholds and your praise as my safety ropes. I didn’t want to sink into those frigid shadows that I occasionally felt tingling my skin. Never. I would proudly stand under this scorching spotlight if only to keep that cold darkness at bay. I won’t be devalued. I won’t be bypassed. I was needed.

But still the question gnawed at me. What was it that I wanted? Honestly, at this point, I didn’t even know. I couldn’t make sense of my true self anymore. Believe me, I had tried to sort through the endless charade of masks in hopes of telling the real ones apart from the fakes. I tried so many times. But if I were to try being completely honest, then I would have to say that I was rather unwilling to leave this comfortable Potemkin Village even for the sake of authenticity. In fact, in a world of endless conditionals, the thought of genuineness felt more like a naïve pretense than any substantial ideal. Somewhere along the way, legitimacy itself slowly became something obscure and terrifying.

But if that’s true then when would it be enough? When would I be enough? The standards I placed – no, the standards you forcefully fed to my hungry self – are too arbitrary for me to understand. I knew painfully well that I would only be loved upon your imposing requirements, but that conditional acceptance somehow became the oxygen I needed to breath. The string after string tied to your love moved my arms and legs and kept this marionette safely in their role. I lived by your rules as an emphatic mandate. I abided by your standards. Deep down, I knew I couldn’t please everyone. But I certainly wanted to try, if only to please myself.

But would I truly be happy with that? Again, I nervously asked, what it was that I wanted? The carefully crafted script was still tightly clenched in my grasp, but would this crumpled paper crutch really save me for what I truly wanted? If I somehow found my heart buried in the mix of my tattered costumes, dusted it off, and firmly declared that I wanted to unequivocally abide by it, would you be okay with that? If - just if - if I were to step onto this gilded stage in nothing but myself, would the crowd still applaud at the end? I tried to tell myself that it didn’t matter whether they did or not. I wanted to believe that it would be okay. For if I found love in just being me, wouldn’t that finally be the enough I’ve been searching for?

Steadily but surely, the applauding crowds gave way to silent smiles and the steady holding of hands. Glimmering gold promising social radiance gave way to toddler notes of love scribbled in cheap crayon. Social hierarchy gave way to messy crumpled tissues followed by reassuring hugs. Wide spoken appraisal of my best self gave way to long car rides and quiet midnight talks. Social recognition gave way to individual appreciation. Conditional gave way to unconditional.

In the end, your abiding love in my ungarnished but true self was the greatest accomplishment I ever achieved.