Identity / Me, At The Core

Earlier today, I mentioned identity issues as one of the things I struggle with, specifically related to people pleasing and how it has impacted my life and the things that I love.

The earliest example of this would be a rather moderate one from elementary/middle school. I remember pretending to like or care about the things that my friends did all the time, which I think is sort of normal, but I took it to a whole different level.

My friends back then were super into video games. I liked some video games too, but only a select few, and my passion for them was not the same as my friends' passion. Despite this, I made it out to be, because my video game-loving friends were all I had and I wanted to feel close to them and accepted by them. Instead of being honest or normal about it, I enthusiastically pretended to have known and played all the games that my friends loved, and I let them talk about them to me all the time while contributing almost nothing in return. It worked out for me that way, because I was very anxious and quiet and they were talkative and outgoing, and I liked listening to them talk so passionately.

I rarely talked about the things I liked that they did not like or know about, because I felt that there was no room for that in any of my friendships. This has also carried into many of my current relationships. I am much more of a listener and a supporter as a friend than someone who contributes to conversations about myself or the things that I want to talk about. In fact, every time I've actually been asked to bring up a topic myself or discuss something that I'd like to talk about, my mind almost always goes empty, or I think of something I know they will want to talk about instead. There is an immediate feeling of embarrassment and lostness that comes with that initial emptiness after being asked to control the conversation, and it makes me feel like a void with nothing much to contribute besides being a yes-man (or yes-woman?). It makes me feel horribly shallow and unintelligent, like there's nothing I ever truly want to say.

As an adult, I have changed for the better in some ways in this regard. Everything that I like nowadays, I do truly like. I don't pretend to like things anymore if I don't, and that has been progress for me. But on the other hand, I feel that everything I do like began as a way for me to appeal to someone else. And that's not to say I don't love the things that I love, because I do. But to feel like I don't like anything simply because I like it is a little depressing. I always began to develop interest in things in order to relate to someone, or to make them like me, or to have and feel that connection with another person, or simply to be perceived as cool or intelligent. And I now feel that that's not a great way to have operated; it's actually quite shameful to have such a lack of confidence.

In short, I think I have never once been able to trust myself enough to like something for myself, and I've never trusted myself enough to do very much for myself either. I feel like a bystander in my own life so much of the time, and I've always felt this way. I've never been driven to do what I want to do because of my own desires or ambitions. My own desires are so tightly bound to other people's perceptions of me, and they always have been. I don't really know how to be anything different.

What I do know is that for all my life, I tried so hard to be liked. There were so many times I should have stood up for myself or for others, but I didn't. There were so many moments I froze up or was scared or unsure to find myself in uncomfortable situations, but I endured them anyway without a word. So many times, people have taken advantage of my kindness or my silence, and I let them. And so many times, I've taken advantage of other people's trust with my dishonesty, so that they would like me for someone I'm not. I've let people get away with so much, and I've gotten away with so much, all for the sake of feeling liked and appreciated and normal, because I've never felt like I am normal. I tried to be kind and polite, likable and friendly, even when it backfired on me. Even when puberty hit and people started acting predatorily to me, I was so afraid of doing anything to protect myself. I tried to be content living a million lies and making myself interesting, making my life sound happier than it was or sadder than it was or more important, making myself out to be whoever I had to be to feel loved and supported, but I don't feel like I want to keep doing it anymore.

I tried to be the perfect version of myself, despite knowing that all of my "perfect" versions looked different for different people—I never cared about that. I never cared that I didn't have a true sense of self. All I wanted was to feel liked and admired and respected, not caring what I had to do or say or fake. But this version of the "perfect" version of myself completely shattered for me when I was forced to reflect on the terrible ways I’ve betrayed myself by lying and faking so much of it all, disillusioning me to myself, sending myself into irredeemable territory in my own mind. Not only do I feel the shame of this way of living for the sake of my loved ones, but I do feel it for myself. For the first time in a long time, I felt a sense of myself, and it felt utterly crushed and broken. I felt like I crossed a line, or cut a rope and sent myself falling into an abyss, as if I'd lost something I can never get back. I don't know how to describe it besides it feels like someone died, or something died within me. I thought I'd lost that sense of goodness I felt I'd always had deep within me, even if I believed a lot of it was directed in the wrong ways, for a long time.

A few journal entries back, I touched on the concern that I feel like an actor in my own life, that I don't know who I am when I'm not around somebody else. What I am and how I feel when I'm alone is mostly this: a person talking to myself about who I am, or if I am anyone at all. The closest I feel I had to having a sense of self was when I was young, and I feel so disconnected from that girl now that it makes me horribly sad, because I think I really loved her. And isn't that sad, that the version of myself I like the most is the self before the self?

Starting therapy has been very healing and validating in so many ways, but it's also been scary and nerve-wracking to speak about myself so much. I'm shocked I have so much to say about myself since I never have before, not ever. I've probably talked to you the most about myself in a month than I've talked to anyone else about myself in my life with the exception of my boyfriend, who is my very best friend, and I'm not sure if that's weird or not, but it sure feels weird to say. It can be terrifying to realize the depths of my own lack of identity, and how much of myself I've hidden behind lies and deceptions for simple approval. It makes me feel pathetic, and as I'm 22 years old right now, it makes me feel like it's too late for me to help myself, let alone know myself.

But I have decided to not believe that, because like you've said, we control who we want to become. And we control the decisions we make from this point forward. I want to decide, for myself, to love myself. I want to decide for myself that I am worth redemption. I want to relinquish a life of lies and deceit and secrecy. I want to be an honest person. I want to feel deserving of love. I want to find myself. I want to forgive myself. I'm realizing I do want so many things for myself, and it's so empowering to feel that way for the first time. I feel that I owe it to myself to not give up on discovering myself. I think my kindness and desire to be good is genuine and beyond the simple want to be liked, because it comes to me so inherently. It always has, and I like that about myself. I choose to believe that that means something. I may not consider myself a good person, but I consider myself to have a lot of good within me, and I want to utilize this good and turn it into a strength that encompasses the essence of who I am so that when I die, I can feel more than just shame and regret and lostness. I want to feel proud of the life I lived, and I want to feel like I tried my hardest. And for myself, I want to continue paving the path to self betterment to achieve this.

Thank you as always for listening and for being here. It really does mean more than you know.

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Hi everyone! Happy New Year! ♥️

As I’ve been lacking in motivation lately, I decided to share a more personal piece from the past. This is a journal entry I sent to my online therapist, who I love very much. I changed around some things to make them more ambiguous for my own comfort and privacy, but I hope what I say will maybe resonate with other people, at least a little bit. It’s hard feeling so alone in our minds and hearts.