I’ve spent my whole life being particularly sure – of who I am, what I like and what I want. Yet as I waddle further into adulthood, I’m plagued with the realisation that my sense of self was rooted in arrogance, not understanding.
How could I really know who I was and what I wanted if I never challenged my own ideas of the status quo in ways that mattered. Of course, I subverted ideas of how to visually present myself (wigs and dynamic outfits), but it took me 25 years to realise that the work needed to be done on my perspective (mind, thoughts, nuances). My understanding of the world was so skewed and insular that had I not of checked myself, it would’ve been to my detriment.
I wandered so far into what I could only describe as becoming a caricature. Roleplaying what it felt like to understand, to evolve, to grow – as opposed to breaking myself down and doing the work. I’m starting to understand what it feels like to be uncomfortable for the sake of growth. To lean into the contradictions that start to jump out when you begin to unpack your existence.
“Why am I like this?” – I use to ask myself in jest, not really acknowledging that I had no idea. I can’t explain to you how bizarre it is to lean in to the idea that you don’t know yourself. Or anything for that matter. Why am I confident? Why am I avoidant? Why am I resilient? Why do planes fly? How do boats float? How did we just “create” WiFi? And contrary to what I once thought, I don’t have to have an explicit answer – I just need to be open to comprehension.