Paste with formatting. Same person, different font.
We’re all constantly CTRL-SHIFT-V-ing ourselves; changing ourselves, growing into a new personality, almost like a snake shedding its skin. Our essence will always be the same; a snake that has shed its skin will still be the same snake underneath its new coat. An orange spot that wasn’t there before. A missing hint of pink on its nose. Just like the snake, we’ll be expelling certain qualities of ourselves, and gaining new ones in their place.
But I didn’t always have this coat, this skin. At times, I look back on past versions of myself, and how each of them has changed. Perhaps it is an old video or picture that reignites this memory within me, or it may be that notebook I used to write in. The way I used to curve the ends of my t’s and dot my i’s brings out something in me. I was so different back then, so incredibly different that I can’t fathom how I became the person I am today. Then, when I see my pre-pubescent face in an old photograph, I still see myself. I understand now. At the very core, that’s still me.
I understand now, how I became the person I am today. What shaped me was myself. Without all these past versions, there wouldn’t be me. I’d be so two-dimensional. Sometimes I think about the way I used to act. Every little thing in retrospect would annoy me, make me hate myself a little more. The way I used to talk, the sound of my voice and its annoying little ring would just kill me. The words I chose to say were also so shameful to me. Why did I say that? I wasn’t always the best person – I’m still far from it. The things I used to say to people, the way I treated them and the way I used them was inexcusable. If I had the chance to, I would apologize, but the moment’s passed. It’s something I’ll have to live with now, but I think that’s a relatively good thing. Everyone makes mistakes at some point in their lives. It’s inevitable. But what makes a mistake ‘good’ or ‘bad’ is whether you learn from it. When you think about a mistake you made and feel a certain regret, or shame, or even pain, then that’s when you know you’ve learnt from it. You may not have necessarily made amends, but you’ve learnt. So maybe it’s a good thing you said that to them. Maybe it’s a good thing you were a little strange, because no matter how bad the mistake was, you can learn to do better. And maybe you hurt them a little in your process, but knowing that you can never go back to that moment to make things different will provide fuel to make the right choice in the future. Regrets are pointless if you don’t learn from them.
One of the biggest things that shaped me into who I am today, and one of the biggest mistakes I made yet never regretted, is holding on to a toxic relationship—both romantic and platonic. The way I would interact with people told me a lot about myself, and these were the (negative) qualities I gathered over the past two years:
People-pleaser.
Can’t stand up for myself.
Deathly afraid of conflict.
Let people walk all over me.
Will absolutely romanticize everything.
I was the type of person to never say what was bothering me in the hopes that it would just brush over. In many ways, I still am that person – my current font just a little bit bolder than the one before it. I never wanted to stand up for myself if it meant that I had to confront them; I could just never be comfortable with the idea that they hated me, or was even the slightest bit frustrated with me. To this day, I’m not exactly sure as to why this is. Perhaps I interpreted it as a jab to my self-worth. As I let these people walk over me, the soles of their feet sank deeper and deeper into the grounds of my self-respect. Rationality showed the lines of my reasons and I decided I have had enough. I was getting hurt and used at their expense. And yet, there was something that made me want to stay. Maybe they could get better if I showed them how to. So I gave them a second chance. Then a third. Then a fourth, until I lost count. I gave so many opportunities until there were none left to give. And still, I never faltered, never said my piece.
In retrospect, of course, I never should’ve given them a chance. But there was something so sentimental about the relationship that I couldn’t let go of: the fact that I had known them for so long. It was time that was holding me back.
I thought of these relationships as an inflatable ball that you had to keep blowing up: impossible to alter its shape unless you completely pop it, forever unchanging until you stop trying to breathe life into it. This ball was lost in the current of a slow but dangerous sea. You can see the waves dragging the ball away, but if you try to save it, you’ll drown. All you can do is stand there contemplating whether you should drown yourself to save it, or just watch it float away knowing you could’ve done something. But if we go down, we go down together, right?
I walked knee-deep into those waters. But I never went after the ball.
Paste with formatting. Same person, different font.
CTRL-C
CTRL-SHIFT-V
CTRL-C
and
CTRL-SHIFT-V,
over and over again.