On being yourself and on... love

I can't quite remember how I came across Ashley Riordan, just like I can't quite recall how I came across Jemma Wei. I have been thinking a lot about one thing lately, and that thing is this: I've been told that in order to make my writing more powerful, I have to get personal. I have been trying to do that with this blog, I mean, really, how much more personal can I get given that my name is all over this page. That said, I do admit that I have the same thoughts that Ashley wrote about here. You really need to read what Ashley wrote first so that what I write here has some sort of context, which is neatly described by Ashley and I am too lazy to repeat.

On being weird. I have come to accept that weird and its variants are one of the very first adjectives that people use to describe me as their first impression kind of thing. I think this is a good thing because oh well, who wants to be ordinary? I get that in this society we are expected to conform and I do try to, believe me, at least when it is required anyway. And at the same time, we also exist in the same society that celebrates creativity and embraces differences, insofar as it does not make it uncomfortable for a continuously extended period of time. And this has got to be good, no? Because it means we have the freedom to be ourselves, although this freedom, if we choose to take it up, comes with consequences - the consequences of judgement and rejection, and/or the possibility of being remarkable. High risk, high return. Take your pick.

About approximately five years ago, I had the luxury of lunching with a friend called Toby. This event is not something that I talk about a lot or even recall had it not for me coming across a piece that I wrote about that day. That day was memorable because of something that he said, for every person who finds you attractive, there are at least one other person who finds you ugly. Yes, we know that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but this is quite frankly the first time that I come across someone who quantifies. If that statement is true, and if the opinion of the majority goes, then everyone in this planet is very likely to fall under the classification of ugly than beautiful. I don't think this is a bad thing per se, because what really matters, in my opinion, is how you feel about yourself. In fact, I'd like to go as far as thinking it is the only thing that matters, because how you feel about yourself determines how well you sleep at night (and trust me, sleeping well is important, especially as you get older). I mean, why do we place so much emphasis in what other people think about us anyway?

I find this business of being yourself extremely difficult to reconcile. This is because when you've achieved "greatness" or "success" then everyone wants to be your "friend", guaranteed. This is something that I see far too often and this is also something that makes me run away from people in general. Because the very same people cannot understand that I am who I am and if you want to hang out with me, then, oh well, you've got the whole package. You can't cherry pick, and you don't always get the polished, edited version. Are you going to be okay with that? Can you really seriously call me feisty and stubborn on the same breath as telling me that you love me because of those things and then swallow the things I hate about you that I deliver in a blunt, forward mannerism, which is not always solicited, but definitely expected? Because there are times in which I forsake politeness for a possibility of a deeper bond between you and me, given the limited time and space that we do actually have.

And then when that bond happens, I would tell you that I love you. Not because I want to marry you or have sex with you or anything like that; love is so much encompassing than that and at the same time, so widely misinterpreted and misunderstood. Once we bond, of course there is that possibility I would love you, and you would love me, for whatever reason. And yet, how often do we find ourselves suppressing this feeling rather than actually expressing it, let alone celebrating it? Bonding, human connection and ... love are inevitable consequences of life that are supposed to be beautiful and cherished because as they always say, love makes the world goes around. Love makes my world goes around.

I say this because there had been a lot of time in my life whereby I can't describe what I feel as anything other than love and appreciation. In the past few years, I have been lucky to be surrounded by some of the kindest, most empathetic, most generous people I have come across. I learn from these people the important skills in life that we need to have, but there is no one who can really teach us, unless we take the time and the opportunity to genuinely bond with them. I am talking about things along these lines: how to be kind to myself, how to open my heart, how to forgive sincerely, especially forgiving myself for the mistakes I make (and there are plenty), how to ask for forgiveness for the mistakes that I make (even when they are unintentional), how to feel and express empathy and how and when to reach out (or not) during the most painful of conversations. They teach me how to stay true to myself and at the same time give me the time and space to grow into a better, much improved version that is continuously evolving. If this is not love, then I am not sure what this is.

life is a box of macarons

I should know, right, because for the longest time, I have been looking for love. I asked what it means, and I asked that question over and over and over again, until I got sick of asking the same question and not knowing if there is someone, anyone, who can actually answer truthfully. And then I realise that we can only see what we want to see, and the world that we see is what it is because of the lenses that we see it from. These lenses are our personal filters and if not managed accordingly can be something that is so limiting. So. Perhaps I am different in my take on this thing called love, or replace love with anything else, beauty, eating, running; and you know what - this floats my boat, for now. When I say this, what I really mean is, this is something that I am comfortable with and that is it.

It takes a long time for me to be able to come to this conclusion and it takes an equally long time for me to be able to write this. There we go, my first of many attempts to be more personal, at the risk of over-sharing and being terribly quoted out of context. Oh, in the extremely off chance that Toby is actually reading this, I hope he would call me, except that he probably doesn't have my number.