Sometimes, I wonder what my life would be like if I didn’t have so much baggage. How my relationships would be different. Which ones would have worked, and which ones wouldn’t have changed at all.
Love, in all it’s multi-faceted wonder, levels, and types, is never a sure thing for me. I may feel it, but feel that it’s fleeting and conditional at the same time. Other people have the luxury of taking love for granted. They assume they’re loved. How comforting it must be. For me, it’s always been a struggle for stability. “We won’t love you if you don’t do well on this test. We won’t love you if you don’t practice piano. We won’t love you if you don’t finish your dinner. No one’s going to love you if you always stay this skinny.”
It feels like I haven’t survived my childhood yet. And I arrive at this fact so many times when trying to figure out the source of my issues that it’s starting to sound like an excuse. Therapy has helped identify my issues, but it’s still taking work on my part to resolve them, along with patience on the parts of others. I’m beginning to question why people would accept and love me. I guess it’s worth it to some, but things would be so much easier if they didn’t have to deal with my insecurities.
Perhaps it’s just my own parallels, but I value your scars as a route to your wisdom, and particularly your lack of hiding from the reality of you.
So many people I know never evolve to a point where they even see much of that problematic stuff that forms them. You’re already using it like clay. Go! Build!
I guess in the same way, it makes me wonder how people deal with those who aren’t even aware of their issues. At least I know that I’ve been able to improve. Maybe it’s hope that things will be better that makes things easier.
How odd that I still do struggle with that same concept even now. It’s become the very basis of who I am and what I do. While I never wondered whether my life would be any different given the baggage I carry, I know it will be, but I wonder if I would be a better person from it. I don’t know.
What I do know is that I wouldn’t trade the person I am today for any other character, regardless of the baggage I carry or the events that made me who I am. They are in the past now and while it’s easier to fight without having deal with insecurities, I wouldn’t be the me that I know.
Sometimes instead of trying to figure out what made you who you are, the simplest way to move on would be to forgive yourself for what you had to do, and the past that made you who you are. Because that can never change what it has created. The best we all can do is to do what it takes to make use of what we have become and feel better about it.
This is where you and I differ. One of my close friends grew up with a very similar childhood as mine, and yet he was able to come out of it without any issues. I’ve always looked up to him for this, and wonder if I’ll ever be able to achieve the same serenity as him. I know I shouldn’t compare myself to him, but I dream of how much easier life would be to have his strength and stability.
Forgiveness, in my opinion, can only come from resolution, and I don’t have enough of that yet to rise above my past.
It can never be said that I take love and relationships for granted though. I hope one day someone will appreciate that. Maybe that’ll be enough to help me get out of this cycle of pain and defence mechanisms.
I guess, being raised the way we are is the epitome of traditional Asian families. We were often driven and beaten if we fail to meet the expectations of our parents. A lot of my peers, especially single children like myself, endured those times. I’m not sure if they resemble any hint of being normal, but I know they are more integrated into society than I can ever be. In fact, I still have to put up with those criticisms today from my family, a small miracle to know that I’m not in the same continent as them for the past few years.
I guess what I’m trying to say it, the part which I forgive myself is the fact I tried to integrate myself into society at all costs and failed. The things I had to do and had to put up with to live a lie which is not mine, but my parents. I’ve given up on that and accepted the fact that I am and will always be damaged goods in the eyes of society, never being able to live a “normal” life as defined by everyone’s standards.
And you’re right, the path to our own redemption begins when we opt for resolution for our “sins”. In my case though, I forgave myself while opting to do something about my life, or realised I had to forgive myself and the past because I have always been working hard to do something about my past. Some part of me realises I will never ever be acknowledged in the eyes of my parents or peers. I’ll always be thought of as a failure and a loser no matter what my successes are. But it took me a long while to realise that after all this time, after all my past has driven me to do, to prove, I have become more successful than they can ever imagine, but they will never acknowledge it out of sincerity, only criticise all the faults that they can see or remain silent when there is nothing bad to talk about.
I’m tired of being reminded that my faults make me a failure and maybe it’s luck that I never had a friend or someone to talk to in life that I realised if the only person worth listening to is often my own opinions. As long as I succeed in my goals, I’m willing to ride the roller coaster of my insecurities. And that did pay off, as I wrote in my post about the friends I have now. While even my girlfriend cannot understand my mood swings sometimes, she does put up with it because she knows I have the full capability to ride it out and still get work done. (She too was brought up in the same kind of environment with the added hurt of having an extended family who outcasts her own family, but amazingly she’s in a much better condition than me) Despite being damaged goods, I’ve compensated for all that I lack with sheer work and that makes the complete package that people that people accept.
But it is hard to find people who are willing to accept us for who we are. Mine are far and few in number and most of my peers are people whom I have to wear a mask to get along for the sake of integration, a mask I hate to wear. But it doesn’t stop me either and I will keep trying to redefine “normal” to suit the world I live in, even if I have to take years to find all the friends I need to make that world. All I have to do is to keep reaching out, keep taking the risk knowing that if it fails, I’ll be hurt. Since I’m no stranger to that hurt, I will keep taking it, keep moving forward, to prove my parents wrong, to prove my peers wrong, that my road is not just “as bad as they think”, but the better road as well.
In the same light, I guess, I’m trying to reach out to you as well, even if we’ve known each other through our blogs and until now, conversed in just comments. That part of my past acknowledges your life. In some ways, I’m drawn to you as a matter of connecting with people that I hope can understand and accept me for who I am, so I will never be alone. Just as you never will be alone for as long as you realise there are people out there willing to accept you and all your bagages for who you are. We just have to find them.