Exits for this uncomfortable feeling of not feeling myself - part 1
Balance.
Most of the times, I’m absorbed in memories and in the search of a version of me that is no longer here. I tend to talk about that younger self as if it was someone else, and always in past tense, as if she was… dead.
I think about how open I was, to people and experiences, and the amount of joy I emitted compared to now. I was definitely someone else. I used to dance (a lot) wherever I went to, and would even ask random people to join me on the dance floor because my friends didn’t know how to. — The life of the party — Talkative, cheerful, and very, very social. I was unapologetically myself, and because of that, I would also argue a lot. I loved debates and making points, to express my opinions and dislikes out loud, and fight for the injustices in my surroundings (aka high school). — It looked immature from above, and now after all the years have gone by, and I (intentionally or not) analyzed every chapter of my life so far, I can say it was (deep down) confidence. A powerful self trust that I relied on so often, and that I now feel I barely have in me. All this to say… I felt full of life, as any other teen would, and I remember how I loved my persona and the way I was walking on earth.
But — there’s always a but after that kind of introduction — I am no longer her, even though I didn’t want for her to leave. It wasn’t up to me anyways. Time can be naughty, confusing and unforgiving. It passes by while you have no idea where you’re going, only to stop when you’re starting to figure it out.
I wrote recently about how my friends — my people — make me feel. Like there’s a flame inside of me, and they are the hands protecting it from braze and rain. The hands that help me keep the flame alive. One way they do so, is when they hear me complaining about who I am now and missing who I was. They always say things like:
“I like you even more now - You are more mature and handle things better than before - Girl, you’re less dramatic, this new you its my favorite” (here I would write lol) — However, what if —even though those words feel like a hug and lift me up — I still want that confidence back and feel less fear like the one I once was? What if I still want the old me to be my actual me?
It’s not as easy as “just be it then”. It’s been too long, so much has happened and lessons have been learned. I just can’t fake it. But — I’m full of them — some things never change. Like the fact that I am a problem fixer, always been, for better or worse (and yes, that’s something that can be a bad thing too, and I will get into that on another occasion). — Realizing I can’t pretend that I didn’t change at all — just to embody a personality that doesn’t fit me anymore — logically made me want to find new exits, from this problem, this uncomfortable feeling of “not feeling myself”.
Balance in my opinion, is one of the key words to find who you are — I had this urge to cry over a lost piece, of a puzzle that has changed, a piece that wouldn’t work even if I find it, and at the same time, a need of trying to understand this new version that I keep neglecting, only to probably regret it in the future. — I thought how do I do that?
One thing that helps me get solutions when my mind and heart seem to be on bad terms (besides going to therapy, meditating and reading books about it) is asking myself open/raw questions, and answer them with complete honesty. Most of the times I really don’t know what will resurface until I start writing things down, and as I was searching for what felt like a hidden truth, many questions came up to mind — what do I missed about me? What got tattooed on my soul that I wish I could remove? What makes me proud of being who I am? etc. etc.— and they were followed by many more answers. — Here’s what I got from all of it:
If we always picture life as a journey, a road we’re walking on, then life’s stages and moments (our childhood, our teens, our golden era maybe?) are the bag we carry through it. The knowledge we gain, the traumas, the good memories, the experiences, are what we bring in the bag. Our tools.
Every other step we take on that road, we put something in, or take something out of the bag. Sometimes, we lose some tools we didn’t mind, or some we cherished with all our hearts. And we learn about it all with every mile we go forward.
It’s valid to grief for her, it’s okay to miss your past — I think with compassion, but I’m writing this to remind myself to love the one standing here today, the one that’s giving all the steps with a bag full of doubts and pain and still not backing up.
The lesson within these lines is — Honor your past, by meeting yourself as many times you need to, and find the things you love about your new you. Realize which are the tools you lost on your way here, and rebuild them so that they can fit even better. Grab the ones that make your bag too heavy, the ones you can live without, and leave them aside. Do all this with gratitude and without pressure, for you are on your own journey. At the end of the day, It’s all about creating balance between all the yous that have inhabited your soul and choosing what parts you are taking with you for a bit longer. —
Nicole <3
Ps: Yes, I am in fact someone else. Someone I am wholeheartedly accepting.
Thank you for being here! I hope you go on with your day, willing to ask yourself open questions, for you to understand and ultimately accept with open arms, the version of you who is here now. — Is there any other way you’ve been getting to know yourself? — See you in part two with the second key word <3