Who Am I REALLY?

Who hasn’t heard the phrase that the most important time of a person’s life is when he discovers who he is and what he is intended to do…

Who exactly are you? A question that has plagued me for the past 23 years of my existence on this piece of rock. I’ve asked this stupid question over and over again, but to no avail.

I was always talking about discovering myself, the true significance of my existence, as I boldly stated! The real question I should have asked was, “At what age did I lose my identity?” When did I learn to be alone, or when did I forget how solitude affects a person? When did I discover that the way I look is the most significant factor in my life? When did other people’s opinions become so important that my entire life revolved around what others would think of me if I did this or that? When I was asked, “How are you today?” I gave a standard response. This got me thinking about whether or not I am a nice person. I suppose it was when I discovered I wasn’t loved enough… When did I start to lose myself? When did I lose the ability to question myself? When did I start debating with myself about what was right and what was wrong? When did my moral compass go missing and leave me befuddled? When did I forget what it meant to be honest? When did my ego become more important than the feelings of those who cared about me?

We always desire to appear bright, gorgeous, pretty, strong, better, social, presentable, and so on… We need others in our lives to exist, feel, and love, but when did we stop listening to our moral intuition? We all want to be kids from time to time, right? Why? Why do we all have that sensation? What was so wonderful about being an adult when we were children, and now that we have finally grown up, all we want to do is go back to being that child… Why? Because it was more bearable to get injured while playing than to be played… Maa’s and Paa’s scoldings and drubbings were much better than breakups and deception… still not it? It was easier to be us, it was easier to glance in the mirror every now and then and not validate how we appear on the outside even if we are miserable on the inside… I believe we want to be a kid again not because we want to play forever, but because it was easier to be us…

I was not pleased with myself. I was not dissatisfied. I was stuck somewhere in the centre, which is far worse than simply being pleased or miserable. I had no idea where I was. Nothing was occurring, which made me increasingly irritated. Why was it always me? I wondered. Who am I, exactly? Why did life punch me in the heart so hard that it caused a hole big enough to swallow the entire universe like a black hole? In my thoughts, a voice screamed, shouted, and said “Stop putting the blame on yourself!!! You spent years crying aloud and apologising beneath those blood-soaked eyes, enabling others to blame you for their pain and grief when it wasn’t yours to bear… When your heart absorbed in all the pains and secrets that you couldn’t dismiss, you forced a simple on that idiotic face… You gave your life for the sake of others, but who is there to pick you up?”

“The minute you start thinking like a victim, life starts treating you like one.”

I know what you’re thinking: “What’s the point?” Nothing seems to make sense… The sole goal is to locate important things and people, hold on to them, fight for them, and refuse to let them go.

So, who are you really? I ask once again. You are not your name, height, weight, or gender; you are not your age or where you were born; you are not the language you speak or the food you consume… You’re a character from one of your favorite books… The tunes that keep you up till 3 a.m. because they’re stuck in your head… You are your thoughts, which never seem to stop… You’re a Saturday beach sunset or an early Sunday morning sunrise with a cup of coffee in your hand… You’re a million things, but everyone only sees the million things you’re not… You are not your birthplace, but rather your destination… And because life is always black or white, never grey, you should never live it that way…

At the end of the day, life is made up of moments that both make and break you. Bottom line: even if you can see that these times are approaching, whether big or tiny, and you are not prepared, they will arrive. No one asks for their life to change, yet it always does. So, where are we now? NO!!! Helpless, puppets, hopeless… These big and tiny moments will happen, and you won’t be able to avoid them; however, what matters is how you respond to them. That’s when you might discover who you truly are… Keep in mind that you have no pity or compassion for the nasty beast within you. But, hey, it can’t hurt to be a little crazy, right? Buy a ticket, take a flight, skip a meal, eat more than your stomach can handle, take a ride to an unknown town, and if it gets a little heavier than what you had in mind, well… chalk it up to forced concision expansions… tune in to a song, dance like a freak, get beaten, rise… and while you’re at it, find someone to tag along with you… it’s easier to say you’re insane than to admit you’re hurt

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