Confession of a Closeted Nerd
I'm in a season of getting to know myself again. Not because I've changed into someone new, but because somewhere along the way, I lost the courage to be who God created me to be.
For years, I became so busy trying to please people especially the people closest to me that I slowly edited parts of myself just to fit in. Looking back, that scares me. What if the real me is so different from the version people have always known? What if they don't like her?
Lately, I've been trying to reconnect with the things that once made me come alive.
Books.
Writing.
Psychology.
Learning.
Playing the keyboard.
Singing.
I'm not trying to become someone else. If anything, I'm trying to become someone I abandoned years ago. Maybe that's why this season feels both exciting and heartbreaking. It's like introducing my younger self to the person I am today and asking, "Do we still belong together?"
Can my past still speak into my present?
Can the little girl who loved learning still find a home in me?
One thing I've been studying lately is Critical Thinking by Tom Chatfield. To be honest, my brain feels rusty. I can tell years of mindless scrolling have trained me to consume more than to think. Even while reading, I catch myself reaching for my phone or chasing whatever random though decides to interrupt me.
Ironically, that's exactly what happened while I was reading. I ended up on Tom Chatfield's website and found one of his articles about fake news.
One thought stayed with me. He argues that fake news isn't just about people believing lies. Sometimes, it's about people no longer caring whether something is true as long as it confirms what they already want to believe. When truth becomes less important than attention or emotion, we're no longer searching for reality; we're simply feeding our preferences.
That sentence lingered in my mind. Not because of politics. Because of me.
I realized I've spent years dumbing myself down just to make other people feel comfortable. I loved books, ideas, asking questions, learning random things, but I kept those parts hidden because I didn't want people to think that I was trying too hard or acting smart.
So I played smaller. I laughed off the things I genuinely enjoyed. I convinced myself it was humility. Maybe it wasn't. Maybe it was fear.
The strange thing about pretending for so long is that eventually, the mask starts becoming your face. Fake it till you make it? I guess I really did become someone else. Not overnight. Little by little.
And I grieve that. Not because I missed becoming "successful." I grieve because I wasn't faithful with what God entrusted to me.
The curiosity.
The love for learning.
The desire to write.
The mind He gave me.
Maybe that's why I'm reviving this blog. Maybe that's why I'm reading again. Maybe that's why I'm letting myself enjoy nerdy things without apologizing for them.
I'm not trying to make up for lost time. I'm trying to be faithful with the time I still have.
I can't help but feel heartbroken for my younger self. I betrayed her, didn't I? All because I wanted people to approve of me.
But maybe the harder question isn't how I lost her. Maybe it's...
How do I welcome her back?
How do I let the younger me and the present me sit at the same table and finally make peace?
Starting over is harder than starting for the first time because now I know what it cost to stop.
Abba,
Can I still begin again? Can You redeem the years I willingly gave away? Can You help me find the parts of myself I buried beneath other people's expectations?
Would You hug that little girl for me? Tell her she doesn't have to earn anyone's approval anymore. Tell her she can stop performing. Tell her it's okay to ask questions. It's okay to love books. It's okay to fill notebooks with thoughts no one else understands. It's okay to be a nerd.
Because You are the One who made her... wonderfully, fearfully, and intentionally.
And You never asked her to become anyone else.
*Photo by Ánh Đặng: https://www.pexels.com/photo/woman-lying-down-and-reading-book-16392181/
