Yesterday I ended my day laying in bed, thinking about a very kind gesture someone did for me and about the fact I simply felt like I didn’t deserve it. Then, I asked myself “When the hell did I decide that I have no value, that no one can ever do something nice for me?” It’s a simple question, yet one I’ve never asked myself before. I can be quite the insecure person, and I go about my day believing that I should always second guess myself — even when I know that I’m probably right. I like to think that it’s kindness, that I have an open mind and I that want to remember I can be wrong too, but it goes deeper than that.
Some time ago, a friend jokingly said “You say you’re sorry way too much”, and after my reply, they added “I was half thinking you would say you’re sorry now, too.” It’s simply a joke, but it stuck with me. When did I start believing that I am a burden, that I always have to justify my opinions and needs? The only reason why they can’t be valid is because they are mine, even when deep down I know that they do have value.
Becoming something of a people pleaser also had to do with the way some people I cared about reacted to me opening up. I was taught that I shouldn’t be that way, that I should be better, so I gradually decided to hide a little to avoid being hurt or hurting others. I started really doubting myself at a time when something traumatic was happening to me; but it was after a relationship with a manipulative person that it turned into a real issue. I decided to keep a low profile, to be better not to anger others. I was scared — among the other things — of the fact that they may have been right about me, and that I may have been a bad person simply for having friends, for wearing make-up, or for wanting to go out. The power and violence of someone’s words, especially if it’s someone whose opinion you care a lot about, can be difficult to explain. “Just break up with them” is a common response, but it doesn’t take into account all the years of brainwashing someone went through, how unsafe they can feel and how tough getting rid of that emotional baggage can be.
After that experience, I needed a long time to start opening up to new people. In the past few years I’ve started working on letting myself be myself, for better or worse: I try to not be scared of people’s reactions to my boundaries, my needs, my opinions — which will differ from theirs. Sometimes I find myself falling into old habits, and I hide again. What if the real me is not good enough? What if years ago that one person was right, and I’m a bad person? What if… it’s always all the “what ifs” that get me. Those times, I find myself paralyzed and unable to act. I constantly have to teach myself to avoid these habits again, as they tend to build walls around me and isolate me. I know that these thoughts aren’t true, but somehow they still show up again, like ghosts.
I often have to ask myself this: “if someone can’t take a no, if someone can’t respect the fact that we have differences, that I need my boundaries and that I have my opinions, do I even really want them in my life?” and the obvious answer is no. The right people will understand, so there’s no need to hide. That’s something I have to learn again and again, every single day. People who patiently showed me that I can be myself and constantly reassured me that we can be different — and that it’s okay — changed my life for the better. There’s really no need to hide and tell myself I am not worthy of affection or kind gestures; I can and should be my honest, messy, imperfect self.
