Desperately Seeking Melissa

We lie because we don't know who we are and we are afraid if we tell the truth the other person will figure out who we are before we do


Somewhere along the way, I have lost me. I am no longer the same me that I once was. And while I know that there is the inevitable growing and changing that happens to every person who has the breath of life within them, I also know that this misplacement of who I am has very little to do with the maturity and growth that time naturally benefits us. No, this unfortunate displacement of what makes me...well...me, is a direct result of ardent seeking and searching to create in me and of me someone who will be liked by the general public, someone who is very similar if not an exact replica of everyone else.

This makes me sad. Beyond sad. There was a time that I really liked me. I liked what I was good at, I liked what I stood for, I liked the things I was passionate about, and I liked me.

I don't feel like myself much anymore. I feel like I am always surveying the crowd to figure out who I should be to 'fit in'. And the worst of it is the masks that I am wearing are so ill-fitting that, try as I might, I don't feel comfortable in my pretending. I feel like such a fake, a phony, a fraud. I feel like at any moment someone is going to discover that I am there under false pretenses and reveal my dirty little secret to the world at large.

Ok, seriously, I am not crazy. I am not paranoid. I just miss being confident. I truly miss being okay with the world around me. I miss being able to share what I am thinking, feeling, believing, being without wondering how it will be received. I miss having the confidence that I once had in others. I miss the closeness, the bond, the connectedness that I once felt.

It would be easy to say that the people that I surround myself with now are not as trustworthy as the people I once knew. It would be easy to say these people don't care as much or don't want to be that involved or closely connected, but that just isn't the case. It isn't others, it's me. I am struggling to trust.

Trust is a fragile feeling that when broken, shatters. The person whose trust has been broken is cut deeply and the people close to them are injured as well. The wounds run deep and take a long time to heal. In fear of having the scars ripped open once again, we keep others at bay. And still everyone suffers.

That's where I find myself today. Trying to keep my relationships shallow and superficial in order to prevent myself from being hurt once again.

Shallow and superficial is not who I am. And there is a great struggle in trying to live that way. A great struggle in trying to stay guarded. A great struggle in trying to live a 'snorkel existence'. A great struggle indeed.