I figured pretty early on that people don’t pay attention to me. I was never one of those people that just shine and attract others to them like moths to a flame. I was just… there, until I realised that people don’t even see me. I could be next to someone and they wouldn’t even notice me. I was as invisible as a ghost. I consoled myself saying that it’s a good thing, that I could sneak around without any effort, that I could listen to people’s secrets without them knowing, telling myself anything to make me feel like I was in control of this. Then it hit me, I actually wanted to be seen. I craved the attention and approval of others so much that it hurt.
So I changed myself entirely. I stopped diminishing the light inside of me, hoping that this way, at least, I could find myself surrounded by people. With the personality change also came a style and appearance change. It did make me get more attention, but in all the wrong ways. Older men catcalling and staring intently on the street, people’s disapproval of my new style, people judging me based on my hair colours… but there also came “admiration for my courage to dress that way” from some people. Others simply didn’t care, and lastly, few truly understood me, perhaps other outsiders.
Still, even after all these changes, there were a lot of times when I simply didn’t exist. I was there, occupying space, just wasting oxygen trying to talk and make myself visible in any way, all my efforts in vain without anyone noticing my presence. Other times I would just be excluded when people tried to remember groups I was a part of. People forgetting my name, forgetting my age, forgetting where I’m from JUST when I felt like I was beginning to be a part of something.
One step forward, five steps backwards. I envied the people that were naturally gifted in the art of making friends and being liked. I envied the people that didn’t have to put so much effort into everything, who seemingly had everything handed to them by the Universe easily. Compared to them it seemed like a curse had been put on me. Everything I had ever done has never been rewarded the same way.
As the years passed, that resentment turned into anger and ultimately into a deep sadness and loneliness, one that very few understand.
Is it a crime to want to be liked? appreciated? loved?
I became desperate for human connection. From nothing at all, a mere ghost among people, I had become too much. Emotions out of control, talking faster and louder, trying to befriend everyone, whether good or bad, anything, just anything to make me feel something.
Yeah, it’s not a crime to want to be liked… right?
After every failed attempt my heart getting emptier and emptier. Crying in the middle of the night of the stairwell. Crying in my bed. Crying in my friends presence. Crying to my family. It seemed like the only thing I could do besides breathing.
“Your time will come, don’t worry!”
Words like these hurt a lot, especially when coming from someone who’s never struggled with this. I’ve waited my entire life. Perhaps it’s just not meant to be. So I console myself saying that maybe it’s for the better, that I don’t actually want or need anyone beside me, telling myself anything to make me feel like I was in control of this.
just a short text, not proofread
some might relate to this
