I Reacted, Rather Than Acted

I can’t believe I exposed my vulnerability to him. I’m easy to read, and I “reveal” a lot of things to people. But, really, I’m selective about what I open up about and I conceal a lot. My past is unknown to most people. What I do share is really trivial stuff. I never realized this until now, but I’m selectively open to certain types of people. I think it’s subconsciously controlled. Some people are just more receptive to my past and my inner self. When I sense that, I respond differently. It’s been a while since I’ve attracted people who understand, I mean really understand, that life, that world. So, I think it made it easy to bond and connect with him. I think it happened before I was even aware of it.

Sometimes reacting is better than acting because I’m not over-analyzing. Even if those reasons aren’t known to me at that point in time, I have to trust that somewhere inside of me; I know what I’m doing. That’s how it began, and it was clearly the right move. It’s scary, though, to just react and not be in control. When I realized that I wasn’t in control of my emotions and I opened up to him without realizing it, I started shutting down. I kept thinking that he was so guarded, that I wanted him to open up. I didn’t realize how closed-off I was, I am. That’s when I stopped reacting and began acting.

Sarah posted this beautifully expressed quote that I think conveys what I’ve just discovered and realized I need to do in order to find that connection I feel has been missing in my life. “It takes more courage to reveal insecurities than to hide them, more strength to relate to people than to dominate them, more ‘manhood’ to abide by thought-out principles rather than blind reflex. Toughness is in the soul and spirit, not in muscles and an immature mind.” –Alex Karras.

I think I’m more broken and damaged than other people, but I’m also stronger as a result. People see me struggle, but I never let it keep me down. People tell me that I’m strong, and I never believed it because something about that message seemed off somehow. I’m starting to realize that I am a strong individual, but I’m also starting to understand why I was conflicted by the idea of that. “It takes more courage to reveal insecurities than to hide them.” I’ve never openly or deliberately revealed my insecurities until recently, and I broke down. But it was refreshing and a learning experience. I’m not as strong as I’d like to be; I’m not as strong as I wish I am; I’m not as strong as I feel I should and can be. I’ve dominated people more than I have related to them. Relating to people makes me realize how much courage I can have and how weak I actually am in perception. I was a blind reflex girl but not anymore.

I’m starting to change. I’m both frightened and excited by it. I’m losing a part of who I am to gain a new side. My overly logical and disconnected barrier is starting to chip away, which is necessary if I’m ever to be emotionally connected the way I want to be. I’m tired of being overly logical until my logic fails me and then I become emotionally-erratic. Even though emotions aren’t the most controllable essence in this world, I want to be more connected to it. I want to be able to open up when I want to, know how to do that, realize when I’m doing that, realize when I’m not doing that, to be familiar with my feelings even. However, when my emotion takes charge, my objectivity isn’t present. That can become problematic if analytical thought is necessary, but I’m starting to be open to the idea of losing that side of me if that’s the only way to achieve what I’ve always wanted. In the past, I was never willing to make that sacrifice. Even though finding balance has always been the one thing I could never do, I honestly believe that this is a balance I can achieve – maintain my objectivity and access it when it’s necessary, while simultaneously being led by my intuition and being connected to everything I’m a part of.

My Kryptonite

For longer than I’d like to admit, I’ve allowed my kryptonite to plague me. She was a kryptonite for my self-esteem and confidence, a manifestation of my fears and insecurities materialized and wearing an attractive and nearly perfect outfit (attractive, sexy, fearless, talented, confident, sophisticated, charming, sweet, daring, kind, caring, patient, and likable, a good friend in spite of her actions, worldly, and the envy of most girls). I finally realized that she was never my kryptonite; I was. I am. I just shifted my focus onto her. She was just some bitch in my way that distracted me from the real source of my insecurities.

I never lived in the moment and focused on everything that wasn’t in the here and now, everything and anything that wasn’t within me like her. I was jealous and envious of her confidence, success, her resources, and how easily things came to her. I never stopped to consider that the pretty smile concealed her insecurities and doubts. I’m not glad that things are difficult to her, but now that I relate to her, I’m no longer intimidated by her. It is a relief and an eye-opener because even though she was never the source of my problem, she clearly crippled me. Or, more accurately, I allowed her to cripple me.

I’m starting to realize the value of being able to connect with people. I am a little disappointed that it required me to see her flaws in order for me to be immune to her. It shouldn’t have taken a look into her dark side in order for me to realize that she’s just like the rest of us, that she’s human. After all, the side we expose isn’t what’s always on the inside. We share glimpses of our inner senses, but few of us even know who we even are. Our subconscious protects us from it, and we’re so caught up in everything else that we neglect to focus on the important things.

I should know better than anyone that our exterior isn’t reflective of how we really feel. I give the impression that I have a strong sense of self, but it’s more of an act than anything. You wear a mask often enough, it becomes believable and it can become you, but that’s yet to happen for me. It’s because I can’t be someone I’m not, no matter how much I want it or how much I try; I can never be someone or something I’m not. But how I portray myself is how people will receive me, so it’s important that I’m open about it.

Or else it starts to skew my own judgment. I start forgetting how insecure and self-conscious I am, too, not because I’m no longer that girl but because I hide a part of who I am. How can I expect to grow and evolve as a person if I can’t even face who I really am? “Remember that failure isn’t my enemy, fear and negativity are.” I can’t explain enough how much t hat applies to me. And yet I’ve ignored this reality for far too long.

I feel like I can’t talk about these things with so many of my friends because they’re skeptical about the idea of me having doubts. I don’t want to validate, defend, and convince my friends of how I really feel, in hopes that they’ll be receptive and comforting. It’s not their burden to bear. It shouldn’t be anyone’s burden to bear, really. Most importantly, this is something I have to deal with internally. I’ve always known this, but it’s become painfully clear recently. Someone who can read me made me realize how much I was hiding from myself. I’m not really sure what the next step is or what I want. But for the first time in my life this unawareness doesn’t frighten me.

I Don't Feel Human

For such an emotionally-charged person, I never felt very human. I’ve always felt disconnected, and I feel that way even more now. I always knew I was detached, but it never bothered me. I just didn’t know any better. I never knew what I was missing. When I first started noticing what I was missing because emotions rushed in AND spilled out of me, I felt like I was suffocating. I hated it and wanted to turn it off. When I truly realized how emotionally disconnected I was, which, in turn, made me disconnected to everything, I was desperate to feel something, anything, to feel a part of something meaningful and overpowering. I felt that way for a while. I started realizing that something was missing. But once I got what I wanted I wanted the exact opposite because it was overwhelming. I feel like I’m trapped and living in this paradoxical state. I wonder if I’ll learn to appreciate the good and the bad or want to withdrawal each time it becomes painful or if I’ll actually develop the ability to separate myself. If I do separate myself, am I susceptible to returning to my original state, disconnected and unaware of what I’m missing? Will I even remember or care?

Helping Others to Help Myself

I wasn't always the person my friends came to for insights and feedback. But I've changed a lot. So, it's only natural that my friends will respond differently to me. Friends I've only met for the second time will open up about things they haven't shared with their closest friends. It doesn't actually trip me out because I do offer insightful and productive advice. I tend to over-complicate things and it makes my life difficult. But when it comes to helping my friends, I'm direct and eliminate that over-complicated baggage. Somehow, I know that I can't help them with it. So I get rid of it. It's a selective process. I've realized after helping so many of my friends that it's something I need to implement in my own life. I never realized how damaging and neglectful I've been to myself.

I've always been a direct person who does what she wants to do. I could really care less what others think of it, just as long as it's something I want to do unless it involves a guy. It's always about a guy, right? For someone so independent and upfront, I allow myself to be completely taken over by my insecurities and question every action that I take and don't take. Truthfully speaking, my insecurities surface and I question whether I should act a certain way in every aspect of my life. But for the most part, it's just a habitual process that my mind goes through. I proceed as I intend.

By not doing this, by not being myself, I lost someone and, more importantly, I lost myself. So I'm over it. Sometimes, I'm paradoxical in a complex way that I can't fight, nor would I want to. But sometimes I'm paradoxical in an unnecessary and complicated sort of way. I'm afraid to act a certain way because I'm afraid he'll reject me. But I already know how he feels about me if I just stop freaking out how long enough to sense it, to realize it. Besides, why am I so chicken shit for? I don't embarrass easily. So if my paranoia is warranted, it'll still be okay. I just never allow myself the opportunity to learn this. That's unhealthy for me, and it's unfair for any guy who shows an interest in me.

I'm convinced he's going to diss me at any point in time. But I go for sweet guys. I know that. So by suspecting such foul play, it's so disrespectful to the guy. It's not like I ever tip my hat off until I realize that it's mutual anyways, not that it matters. That kind of doubt is unfair and unfounded. And by some chance, my fears become realized, so what? I have friends who like our friends. When it's not mutual, they don't get dissed. I surround myself with considerate, kind people. They wouldn't do me like that...especially if the guy is into me. I was told by a guy I liked that I need to have a higher standard of him. He was wrong. I need a higher standard for myself, only then will I project that perspective.

My friend expressed something that's really obvious and yet profound to me at the same time - But sometimes, when you take a moment to step outside of your shoes, you'll realize the fears or doubts are illogical. At times we are so bombarded by our own thoughts that we can't see clearly. Great things are experienced/achieved by taking great risks. The first message I realized when I was helping my friend, and I realized how much of what I said to him applied to me. I just transferred that logic into my own life. The second sentence is the story of my life, but I'm working on changing that. The third message is a newfound lesson for me. Thanks girl!

I can be such a self-involved person that I think we all forget how much I actually do for others. By believing and perceiving that I make myself a focus and priority, I overlook when I completely neglect myself. This is why helping others helps me. It makes people around me appreciate and acknowledge what I can offer and what I do for them, while I realize how flawed my own perspective is. Sometimes, I waste my time feeling guilty because I spend so much time talking about what's been going on in my life that I forget to realize that my friends share a lot with me, too, just not as much as me. But what they do share with me is significant. I think that's how a lot of people in my life are. The guy I pushed away opened up a lot more than me and shared so much more than me, but I didn't see it because I was focusing on quantity more than quality. I never realized that until now.

My Room Is a Sanctuary

I have four roommates. My bathroom doesn't have a fan, so it's a breeding ground for mold. I think I'm allergic to my place. It's a total mess. To keep it clean, I have to sweep, mop, and disinfect at least twice a day. I eat my laundry money washing an insane amount of rags only to be driven mad and fuel my OCD tendencies. My name also isn't on the lease, so I have no leg to stand on.

Up until my last apartment, where I lived was just a place to sleep. I never felt truly at home. I loved my old apartment. I felt comfortable and my belongings personalized and reflected my personality. It was strategically decorated and balanced in a unique way. I have a purple couch! My art contrasts one another in a very consistent sort of way. Each room is categorized and dedicated to serve a specific purpose to ground me and keep me focused. Since I have tendency to be in my head, I like categories to keep me organized. I felt at ease there.

I was surprised by how well I handled my new environment. I feel like all these changes occurred to help me adapt to where I am now. If all these things didn't happen, I wouldn't cope so well. Management skills, aside, I'm not a fan of where I live. And yet my friend made an astute observation that I open up more in my room, that I may not like that I consider my room my own, but it is what it is. I find a little peace knowing that. I'm glad it was shared with me because I'm not sure if I could've come to that conclusion on my own because I tend to focus on everything else.

I think it's important for everyone to feel like they have a place that's just for themselves, whether it's a place, in someone's heart, in life, etc. I'm a social, chatty person, but I've realized the value of feeling at home especially since my mind is so neurotic. It has a grounding effect for me. I feel differently now that I'm conscious of my reaction to being in my own room. It's true that I don't necessarily "like" the idea that my room is my sanctuary because of the bigoted idea of what I consider "sanctuary". But I'm over that. My room is my sanctuary.