Be Yourself. The World Worships the Original
- Ingrid Bergman
I do not ever remember a time in my former tiresome existence when I felt like anything other than a poor copy of someone else. I clearly recall the thought, while in high school, that I had no personality of my own. I was simply an amalgam of everyone I'd met, adopting what I admired from those around me, incorporating those traits into the veneer painted over the me that I could not allow anyone to glimpse. My mannerisms, the types of jokes I'd tell, my style of writing, my hobbies, my style of dress, my entire being was a conglomerate, pieces chipped from and clandestinely spirited away from others. The only things that remained uniquely mine were my fears.
The illusion was not seamless. Despite my best efforts to hide my terrible secret and to be liked, I spent a large part of my earlier life in fear of even my friends. The veneer was indeed micron thin back then. While it seems that no one realized the full extent of my true self, there was no blocking the occasional shadows projected from within onto the screen of my personality. There were always people - even those I called "friend," for lack of a better word - who were ready to pounce any time such vulnerabilities were evident. "Sissy." "Crybaby." "Man up." Family members asked - with the best intentions, and taken with no offense - "Are you gay?" Despite my best efforts, the shell was leak-resistant, but certainly not leak-proof.
It wasn't until my late 30s or 40s that I started to "perfect" my role. I realized that if I was very careful, I could allow very precisely selected portions of my true self into the world while keeping the rest safely locked down and sandboxed. A slice of creativity to replace the too-quiet, plodding robot. A dollop of self-deprecating humor to replace the belligerent defensiveness. People professed to like me. They seemed to enjoy my jokes, especially when I put myself down. I got by. But still, I was seldom invited when others were doing fun things - unless they detected an opportunity for amusement and entertainment. "Let's see how drunk we can get him."
Pretty dark, right? Well...
Almost a year ago the veneer finally suffocated me. I couldn't breathe - almost literally. I spent a night burning in my misery - and the veneer charred and fell off. I felt the light on my face for the first time. My joyful tears washed away the last of the char. The scratchy conglomerate, the sticky amalgam of others, dried up and was wafted away on the cool breeze of self-realization.
It is glorious. It is terrifying. It is freedom.
People around me report seeing a happy person who smiles all the time. There are invitations to join in gatherings from which I would have been excluded before. And bits of me are being borrowed to help others complete their own personalities.
Actualization; Authenticity; Truth: they have unexpected benefits. The world consists of a new conglomerate, a new amalgam. It now shows respect. It now offers gentleness, kindness, and empathy. And it now allows love, both received and given.
These are the benefits of being yourself. Life is too damned short. Don't wait any longer. The world is waiting to love the real you.
Stephanie
