If I was to ask any one of you the question “Who are you?” I
suspect most would immediately tense up and experience the phenomenon of ‘going
blank’. I was once asked that very question and although I was answering it
through text, I felt under a certain amount of pressure to get it right. As if it
was an exam question. Almost as if the person was going to turn around and say “No
actually you’re wrong”. And therein lies the problem. Why did I feel so mistaken
and tentative of the one question surely only I could know the answer to?
The society we live in today is so narrow-minded that
anything that would be considered different is frowned upon. And I’m not
suggesting that one specific group does all the dictating of what the ‘norm’
is, no. Hands high in the air, we all do it. If you wear dark clothes and have
more than one facial piercing you’re an emo. If you wear hoop earrings and Adidas
tracksuits you’re a chav. If you wear five-inch heels and half an outfit you're
a slut. Okay perhaps the last one is understandable but look at the other two
examples. I wear tracksuits AND listen to Black Veil Brides, so what does that
make me? Apparently a “chemo”. Go figure.
It amazes me that in this day and age people are for some
reason unable to express themselves in whatever manner they wish to. I mean,
celebrities do it all the time. They wear ridiculous outfits and do ridiculous
things, and just because of their status, it becomes fashionable or acceptable.
Think of Lady Gaga, for example. People have simply embraced her whacky outfits
because her name means something. If I was to go around wearing a meat dress I would
be butchered, pun intended.
So can anyone actually tell me why we conform to society’s ‘rules’?
Eventually, I believe we will all simply become one person. One frame of mind,
one way of life; it will be the end of individuality. Evolution will morph all
beings into one and create a sort of Herrenvolk, with society as our Hitler. In my
opinion it’s already happening. People are lacking the confidence to break
whatever clichéd stereotype they fit into. Plenty of people are well-able to
boast of how they don’t care what people say or think of them, but when it
comes to it they’re all just as insecure and self-conscious as the next. To be
quite honest, I think there’s only one real way of determining who you are –
process of elimination. At least that’s what worked for me.
I must’ve gone through almost every pigeonhole under the
sun, failing each time to find a suitable ‘me’. I never felt comfortable behind
all those masks that were never the right fit. In my case, all the chopping and
changing of my personality and social appearance led to people questioning who I
even was anymore. Should they have asked, I would have had no response. I was
lost in this fantasy world that I had created. A world where I could become a
new character every week and no-one would care because it was my story. Turns out
life doesn’t work that way.
When I lost everything, I was stripped bare. I had nothing
to hide behind anymore; no safety net to fall back on. All I was left with was
me. That same person that had watched her own downfall as if she were an
on-looker. I was left with two options. I could become invisible and let the
world pass by without ever contributing to its existence. Or I could start from
scratch and re-invent myself. Become the person I wish I had been from the
start. So that’s exactly what I did. I made bold choices, I spoke my mind, and
you know what? I actually began to gain a shred of respect for what I was
doing. Even by writing this post I am breaking society’s rules. I’m not meant
to have a voice louder than others; I shouldn’t be so comfortable with having
my thoughts and feelings scrutinized by others. Where did this newfound
audacity arise from?
Possibly when I realised that limitations and I did not sit
very well together on this balance board of life. One of us was going to have
to go, and you’ll never guess who it was. Yes, it was I. Being so restricted and
knowing that one foot wrong could be disastrous was too much for me to handle. It
was as if I was being slowly pushed along the plank of life towards an
inevitable death, yet one trip-up and I would fall to an early grave, drowning
in my own regrets and “what ifs”.
I still struggle to answer the question “Who are you?” but
at least I have the bones of an answer now. I hope that one day people will
realise that to be different is to have the strength of hundreds to do what
each of them could only ever imagine doing – being themselves.
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