Afraid to be REAL

I'm sitting here, wondering how to begin writing this; wondering how it will be received by any who read it; wondering how the readers view of me will change as a result of reading it. And I always do that. With everything.

Call it a product of growing up in such a way as to never know stability. Call it a mechanism by which I was able to survive in my ever shifting world. Call it whatever you want.

Whatever it is, it has helped me, but the hindrance it has been far outweighs the help it has given.

You see, it was always better for me to change myself than try to stand firm. You've heard the saying that the nail that sticks out gets hammered down? Yeah...

I valued uniqueness, creativity and being different. I valued standing out, but for me I was only able to stand out insofar as it was acceptable to do so within the confines of the boundaries placed on my by others.

And I fit in. Kind of.

I was afraid to be myself from a very young age, and so I never was myself. In fact, I didn't know who I was or how to find out. And I know that I am not the only one.

My first instinct, for so many years, was to assess the situation and to mold myself to fit into it. I did that with literally every situation. It even got to the point at which I would anticipate situations, obsessively thinking about all the possible outcomes of the different ways that I could fit in.

Occasionally, when I was alone, I would imagine what it would be like to stand strong in the face of the soul crushing opinions of others. I would imagine feeling that genuine freedom inside. It felt amazing, even though it was just an imitation; an imagining of the real thing.

But that was only occasionally. Rarely was I brave enough to live out that version of me, even in my dreams.

After all, I knew that the pain would be immense, and I didn't know how to handle pain. I didn't know how to handle making fucking decisions for myself, let alone any dealing with any more pain than was already ever present.

I still see remnants of that child inside of me. My Inner Brat. I wrote a post on the inner brat awhile back, but I deleted it because it felt too personal. And the irony of how that action encapsulates what I'm talking about in this post is astounding.

My inner brat is furious, tired, bruised, betrayed and more than anything he is afraid. He's afraid I'll fuck up what he's got going for him by being too real; too genuine.

He is my shadow. He is me.

Every time I get too close to fully standing in the light, I sabotage myself in some way.

It's gotten really frustrating.

And it's time to leave it in the past; time to leave the child in childhood.

It might suck sometimes, but I'm going to be real now. I'm not going to mold myself to fit any mother fucker's conception of me.

I am me, and that's that.

And I know that many of you understand these things because you've experienced it.

And I'm essentially writing all of this because I want you to know that you don't have to be anything other than you. Don't take that as a ticket to laziness and debauchery. You should always seek to improve yourself, but that is yourself.

You don't have to change yourself to fit your circumstances, make your circumstances change to fit you. Be genuine. Be authentic. Be honest about what that means for you.

Be the man you know that you can be.

End.