As you may or may not know, I am striving to become my most authentic self (I mean, that's why I have this blog!). To me, this means knowing who I am, the things I stand for, and being myself without fear of judgment from others.
I am slowly coming to know myself through this process, which is crazy because I've lived in my own body, in my own head, for nearly thirty-one years. You'd think that I would know myself pretty well by now, and in some ways I do. I know my favorite foods are my favorites mostly because of texture and not flavor (it's why I prefer Rice Chex above all others, or rice krispy treats, or rice crackers). I know that I don't mind doing dishes. I know that I love cats. But those are basic things about me, things that my friends find out relatively easily.
I've had to do a lot of soul-searching since college. I'm not the kind of person who can learn life lessons from other people. I usually have to get out there and try something before I see it's not for me. Like in 8th grade, when I played softball. I was good at judging when to try to swing for the ball, but I was useless at everything else. Most of the time I just sat in the outfield, watching the game. I couldn't throw. I hated running. I didn't want to learn the rules. I just wanted to have fun. That attitude stayed with me through high school and my early college years. I liked learning, but I wanted to only learn things I was interested in, which meant my grades suffered terribly. I couldn't find anything that I was desperate to learn about, which led me to bounce around in different classes in different majors. If something didn't take my fancy right away, I gave up on potentially switching to that major. I felt stuck in my spiritual life too; I gave up practicing Catholicism as soon as I could, but never really found anything that I liked better. I felt lost, in need of a guide.
Little did I know that I am the perfect guide for me.
We are all the perfect guides for ourselves. Only you know what can make you feel good (by good, I don't just mean a temporary endorphin rush, I mean something that makes you feel thrilled to be alive, makes you feel in love with your life, makes you feel like acting more positively). Only you know what makes you feel alive. Maybe it's music. Maybe it's sports. If you like it, do it. If you don't like it, don't do it. To me, that is what being authentic is all about; one is true to oneself. You are living without fear of judgement (or at least with the idea that others' judgements of your actions are reflections of them, not you). I think this is the hardest thing for people to do nowadays. To live authentically is to invite judgement into your life, especially with the internet.
Slowly I started to find classes and friends that made me feel good. And not just good in an immediate kind of way. Good in a long-term, positive influence kind of way. I found others who accepted me without forcing me to behave in a certain way. I could finally admit that I really enjoyed listening to Britney Spears without the fear of being rejected. I could laugh and get really excited without feeling like no one understood. I discovered classes that I was completely in love with (medieval history, poetry, and language). Slowly I came to know more about myself.
This emotional and spiritual journey is exactly like peeling back an onion. I really think that people develop layers in order to hide their true selves from others because they have had their true selves rejected time and time again. If only we can stop others from seeing our inner layer, maybe we can stop ourselves from getting hurt. But knives can slice deeply, so we keep building up our defenses. Eventually there are so many layers that we are lost from who we once were, separated and alone. We want someone, anyone to understand us, but who better than our very own selves?
You are so capable of loving yourself, of being enough just for you. I think this is the greatest secret in life, the secret that no one ever talks about because no one ever really knows. If you love yourself, if you slowly start to peel back the painful layers, you can expose something wonderful, something bright that others had no idea existed.
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