On a long walk today, I was harboring feelings of disappointment and defeat, largely aimed towards others. Sometimes it feels like the whole world is hiding, and it would simply be easier to go away, find a suitable place for myself to hide, too.
I have realized a frustration rising within myself stemming from feelings of inadequacy - leading me to offer nothing of substance to others, in fear of judgement… criticism… rejection from peers. It is a pitiful thing to feel compelled to create, yet stumbled by the notion that you are divulging flawed work. It seems the answer to this dilemma is straightforward: to isolate, rather than share imperfect efforts with the world. The knowledge that I am offering up a form of myself that will remain in permanence can be enough to stop me in my tracks.
Yet mainstream society’s ideals are not the same as my own; what should I care?
Relishing in a world that one could compare to a game seems much more inviting.
I put on a mask, I chop my hair until I am no longer recognizable; This is what my game face looks like. I move freely about the gameboard with my pawn and rearrange other people’s pieces when they’re not looking. What’s up with these fools clutching the cards they’ve been dealt? Don’t they know how to ease up - Have some fun? It’s just a game. Yet, I am over here pulling tricks over them any chance I see them slack, tossing the dice all about the floor while they turn their backs. This whole time, I never dared to look at the cards I was holding in my own hand. I was too busy entertaining myself by interfering with the other players…
I have had the tendency to view the world and its efforts in black and white, where everything is now deemed unfit. I was building a world for myself that was incongruous… A puzzle with too many conflicting pieces - I hadn’t thought to make space for the all the grey in between… I’m left with a reality that can no longer prevail.
I’ve been turning a blind eye to my own situation; telling myself lies.
I have given success such a lowly title so as to make it effortlessly within reach, condemning those who seek the high road. It is with a lack of respect for myself and disregard for others that I often deny my abilities, and those of others. Consequently resulting in being called out for calculated, conniving behaviors - I am left dumbfounded - being ridiculed for playing at such an unfair, manipulative angle not even I was aware of.
I feel sick to my stomach. I have selfishly imposed these disillusionments upon others as a means to fortify my own reality. Verbal sparring was a pastime and my opponents were just characters to amuse myself with, as subconscious envy slipped through, I painted myself as a haughty fool. My ruthless remarks at others’ fleshly triumphs is just one example of this reality personified.
I’m sure everyone else knew this before I did, but I do care how I am perceived - much more than I let on. I care if I come across dimwitted, which I worry far too often - that I am. I care if I can create something lasting through my work, I want more than anything to become an artist… to be seen as an artist… it feels like a curse to know this. I worry that I am failing myself all the time, that I am wasting away - thus I naturally set myself up for failure. How far can you fall if the bar is always low?
I feel I owe the world an apology… I am breaking away from this cyclical belief that others are somehow irrelevant measures of proof.
I feel my disdain towards worldly pursuits is in a twisted place right now, slipping out from my grasp. It’s a strange moment in time to have realized this. It’s not contempt for distinguished positions in society, it never has been. It was the corrupt, animalistic ways of people getting there that muddied my perception of those rightly disposed.
I am tired of wasting time believing these lies about myself, and others who are ardently waiting for their work to be realized. That I am not good enough, that I am unworthy. I do not want you to waste one moment doubting yourself, either.
This year, I hope you speak to yourself softly. I hope you give yourself the space to be loved, and think of yourself with power, positivity, and possibility, rather than perfection.
You have allowed me to do so.
You are not meant to inhabit one space in this life - you are living proof of that. You are capable of everything you put your mind to. The words you speak, the people’s hearts you touch, your earnest ability to capture people’s essence - it’s all evidence of your passionate nature… Your spirit occupies these creations of yours every day. There is no rush to ‘find’ your home, you are building a space in this world where you spontaneously make others feel at home. We are not put on this earth for ourselves, but for others, as you said - and you bring so many people joy. It’s not often that someone can make others feel seen.
Your perseverance for knowledge amongst dishonest work environments shows your character. It pained me to see your discomfort amongst corrupt colleagues who didn’t owe you the respect you rightly deserve. Those are the people who are playing at a game. Those are the people who are not a measure of your self-worth, not a measure of proof. Their outward successes may be obvious to a world, but not a world worth trying to attain. With your passion for every pursuit you choose to follow, you will never be beholden to anyone. Wherever you find yourself next, you will bring with a sense of eagerness for learning, compassion, and truth. Your talents merit an atmosphere where you can feel welcomed, and free to ask any question that comes to your inquisitive mind.
Thank you for being a constant inspiration in my life. There are moments I wish I had been more attentive to your situation, more understanding, but I am so grateful for having been brought along on it at all.
P.S. - Thank you for your letter, I think I might have spent a lot longer in this circular reasoning had you not written it.
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