The side of me that I allow the world to see…
When meeting someone new, I usually show the happy, fun, positive sides of me. The side of me that goes with the flow and doesn’t necessarily try to cause any problems.
From picking where to eat and what time to meet, I usually cater to the other person’s needs and preferences. I don’t put myself in the forefront because, for me, it’s not about me but how I can make you like me enough to keep me in your life.
Am I funny enough? Do I understand enough? Am I chill enough not to be considered complicated or too much?
I show the side of me that has different goals and projects going on simultaneously. Running, working, projects, and goals. If not for these things, then who would I be? How is my life exciting enough to capture your attention?
Self-sufficient and self-driven are the sides of me that I allow you to see. Understanding and compassion towards the other person are the sides of me that I allow you to see. Interested in your life and experiences is the side that I allow you to see. Why? Because my own life and experiences cannot come out just yet because I run the risk of not being in control.
I run the risk of suddenly not being perceived as a happy, fun, positive, and flexible person. In the few instances I’ve tried to show the other sides of me, some people have looked at me and asked, “What happened to you? You used to be so happy and fun.”.
The jig was up, and the real me was not preferred. I have not felt safe enough to be myself, my true self to others, and even to me.
Through my experiences, I learned to keep quiet, keep going, and hope that things would get better. Mom used to tell us not to let anyone know what was going on at home because otherwise, Child Protective Services would take my brothers and me away.
Take us where? To the unknown. The unknown felt scarier than the known hell I experienced. From then on, I learned to shut my mouth. I learned that no one needed or even wanted to hear my story. I learned that it was my responsibility to present the interesting sides of me, a likable me, that the world would be comfortable with. I learned to silence the real Lindsay for fear of being alone, unloved, and unwanted.
And it wasn’t until death knocked on my door and took my mom that the illusion of Lindsay shattered into pieces. Through my grief, I heard my silent screams. This was a different side of me. A side I couldn’t restrain or contain.
The sides of pain, hurt, and anguish all spilled out like an overflow. As I tried to hide my grief and pain, I noticed the slow death I was subjecting myself to. This wasn’t life. It was merely an existence.
An existence waiting to end. Through my grief, through my pain, I learned to scream. The jig was up, and for the first time, I felt totally okay with the world seeing me for who I truly was…HUMAN!
