It’s so easy to say that the circumstances that are your life were NOT your fault—that where you are and what you are, are simply the product of others. It’s hard to stand up straight and strong, steeling your spine against those who would judge you, and to say “Yes, I made those decisions, and I made those mistakes, and I am the reason that I screwed up.”
Hard, yes, but necessary in the path to growing up.
I know that for a long time I was guilty of passing the buck to others. I kept telling myself that it wasn’t my fault—that I was as I was because of genetics, because of my sheltered upbringing, or because I wasn’t allowed to do otherwise.
The truth was—I liked where I was. I was loved, I was sheltered, I was safe, and that sanctuary was always a strongpoint for me. It is all at once my springboard and my safe-haven—the place I always start from and come back to, my alpha and omega.
Genetics? My line is a line of strong men and women, all of which I am proud to call my ancestry, and of which I am proud to be a descendent. Whatever problems I ever claimed to have with my genetics was simply a cop-out—a scape-goat- a way for me to explain away those times when I raged, when I felt weak.
The weakness was never in them—in the ones who came before– it was in me that it resided, and always has been.
Do you want to know the truth? The honest, complete, black-and-white truth?
I was afraid, though I would never admit it.
I was always afraid that I would not be accepted for who I was, loved for who I was. I spent most of my life working as hard as I could to please people, to bend and twist myself into what I believed they wanted me to be. And I was losing myself continuously in the process.
How can you ever hope to find who you truly are if you do that? The simple fact is, I couldn’t. The fact is—you have to free yourself to be who you ARE, and be true to your nature, in order to find real happiness in this world. Otherwise, no one can ever really know you, or touch you, or hope to really connect with you any deeper than your inner walls allow.
That can lead to a solitary life. Believe me—I know. I kept myself isolated for a long time—a prisoner in my own mind, and I do not recommend it to anyone.