If you read my twitter, or even just know me; you’ll know that my life is not sunshine and rainbows all of the time. I think we all put out the persona online that everything is perfect, but that isn’t real. It’s not the truth. I’ve decided to let all of you in because I am at my heart a secretive person. I keep everything close to my chest. But I know I have amazing folks who care about me. I hope that my words help someone out there in Internet Land realise, that they aren’t alone. That being an adult, isn’t about knowing everything and not having a break down every now and then. But being an adult is about realising that no one else knows what they are doing either. Recently, I have been having a bit of a rough time. And having a look back at my posts on here, I’ve noticed that everything is so sickly sweet and positive all the time.
I thought it was about time that you, dear reader, started to learn a bit more about me and how my brain works sometimes. It’s my best friend, and my biggest nemesis. My best weapon and my weakness. And honestly, for all the bad stuff, there is a ton of good going on in there. But sometimes, I can’t see the forest for the trees.
Ever since I was about 15, I have been having self esteem issues. It didn’t help that I was a late developer. All of my friends seemed to be blooming overnight, and I was getting left behind. I was shy, and quiet and ever so awkward. Back then, awkward and dorky was not a thing to be proud of. So, there it was. I also didn’t have as much freedom as I would have liked. My father, for all his good points; was domineering and exact with how he wanted the house to be. Girls needed to be inside, not because they were not to be trusted, but men in general were bad news.
So teenage me. Quiet, shy, taller than nearly everybody. I wanted to shrink inside my skin or become who I was inside. Someone vivacious, bright and witty. Someone who drew the eye and always looked amazing even though what she wore was not following anyone else, but having her own beat of the drum to march to. I wasn’t anywhere near that point where I didn’t care what others thought though.
So, as soon as I could, I moved out. I applied to Uni. I didn’t even care where, which looking back seems so reckless. But I think that’s exactly what I needed. I needed to have a fresh start, away from the control of people I knew and my own brain. So I left.
Moving out day was a strange time. I didn’t feel sad when I was packing my belongings into the car. I didn’t feel sad as we pulled away from my parents house. I didn’t feel sad when I was getting my new keys and hugging my mum goodbye. I was sad when the room was quiet and I was alone. And I noticed that the bed didn’t have any covers on it. So I unpacked the bedclothes, made the bed and sat down. And I felt better.
It was a strange time. I wanted so badly to be liked, that I made some strange decisions. I had an awful habit of just buying things for people so that they would want to be friends with me. I drank, smoked and did a lot of things I don’t regret, but I probably should. I wanted so badly to be cool and awesome, that I forgot to be myself.
Needless to say, when times were crap and the money ran out these so called friends were nowhere to be found. I have one friend from those days, and honestly, she is the best. She understands my need for solitude when I’m down. We meet up and nothing has changed, we are still those goofy 19 year olds who used to decide to go out in a normal outfit with fairy wings added ‘just because’. This did not help my self confidence that so many people who I hung out with, then didn’t want to know when I was no longer able to buy them things.
I’m going to try and write more often, so I’ll leave it here for now. Please comment and read next time. <3
Until next time,