“Can you remember who you were, before the world told you who you should be?” – Danielle LaPort
Ouch. I read this on a blog/tumbler that I follow daily: Body Positive Zone and began really thinking about this question, statement.
I can remember who I thought I was before the world told me who I should be, I’m not entirely sure if that is truly who I was.
Rebel. Midst of the grunge era. Flannels, Combat boots, Holey jeans, T-shirts. I thought I knew everything. I was creative and driven my the wild thoughts the soared through my veins. I had a keen wit and a sharp tongue.
I just KNEW I would be come somebody. I knew I would be something better than my environment.
I was a writer. I had more stories building a life inside my head than I did outside. I was passionate about a lot of things. My friends, music, books, opinions. I’d go to hell and back for a friend. I was the odd girl, the loser, the one bullied… but I didn’t care.
I care more now as an adult than I did then. The world told me to conform, the world first being my mother. “Conform just a little Regan, you have to conform just a little to survive.”
I am not even a shadow or reflection of who I used to be. Twenty years have past and I reflect back at the awesomeness I was. If I knew then what I know now about myself, I’d turn the world upside down. But I didn’t turn the world, I didn’t even quake it. I conformed. All because my world, my mother, told me to be something else. Something benefiting to her.
I am now meek. I cannot make or keep friends. I cannot empower myself long enough to stand up for myself. I was a rock star, I am now only a faint glimmering speck of dust in the atmosphere.
