I think the saying goes, “All good things must come to an end.” What most people don’t talk about, though, is that a lot of bad things must come to an end, too. Let’s not forget the whole bunch of good things that eventually expired, as well as the ones you thought never would.
As I browse my closet in search of something to wear to a funeral, I feel like I finally know who I am. Every dress I’m staring at right now is black, so I mean it in a literal sense, I suppose. Recent circumstances aside, I didn’t realize just how much I now knew until I noticed how everyone else had absolutely no idea.
I learned to stay quiet from a very early age. That, combined with severely underdeveloped social skills — courtesy of narcissistic abuse — pushed me to keep almost everything about me a secret. As I grew older, I started to see the advantages you can hold over others by sustaining silence as well. Over the past handful of years, however, I feel that I have never been more vocal about who I am as a person than now — so why is it that no one knows me?
One simple argument is that many people don’t bother to try. Human nature dictates that we prioritize our own conerns first. Pair this with the familiarity — and feeling of safety — that comes from bonds with existing people in our lives, and it’s easy to see why some opt out of having to get to know someone new. I’m not quite sure this is the reason for my situation, however, if only because I’ve weeded out those kinds of people from my life.
My new theory is this: people only see what they want to see. Despite shouting various aspects of my very being from the rooftops, people only hear what they want to hear. Everything seems to conveniently fall into place if I (or anyone, really) can fill at least a tiny void and make life feel complete.
It is because of this, though, that I have never felt more like a ghost. While there is relief in knowing that I am not at the root cause of the problem, there is a real fear that this will continue to happen.
When you become the diamond that catches the light just right or a shooting star that grants every wish, people are not shy about letting you know it. The real danger comes when you begin to believe it yourself.
There is a very good chance that you glow as brightly as everyone says. The problem arises when you start to listen as they take stock of that value, like the final piece of their puzzle. The icing on their cake, which you didn’t want to eat.
If you can remember that you’re one of them, though, you can make sure you only hear what you want to hear—and never forget your actual value.
