I feel like I’m having one of those identity crises again. Unlike last time, however, this particular identity crisis doesn’t have much to do with my blog. I mean, it does to an extent, but not in the way that I want to change my blog again or don’t feel at home here. Because, I do feel at home here. The problem is very much me. Just me. There are so many things I want to do with this place that I don’t even know where to begin, but in trying to figure out how to execute these plans, I’m left asking myself how I want to be portrayed online. Well, the obvious answer to that one was honestly. I want to portray myself honestly. I think I’ve spent a lot of time trying to be “taken serious” on this blog, that I haven’t translated myself all that well. I don’t think I’ve done this on purpose, just that it’s a subconscious thing where I try too hard and I don’t realize it. There are some days where I have something profound I’d like to say, then there are other days that I’d like to be bubbly and goofy and Gilmore Girlsy. A lot of times, it’s hard for me to balance those two sides of myself out.
One of my biggest problems producing content on the internet is that I like to change stuff…a lot. I can’t ever get a grip on what it is that I want. If I act too silly online, I fear that writerly types will think I’m a joke, but if I come across too serious, I may seem like a stiff and unrelatable to the bloggers I’m trying and want to connect with. I mean, it’s probably pretty obvious that I have issues trying to be a people-pleaser. I also have issues coming into my own. Growing up, I was used to following people, and as an adult I’ve often been put in situations where I either pave my own way or fall off the trail, and there are some days where I do good enough to find my way through all the tree branches and weeds and scattered bushes. Then there are the birds that poop on your shoulder at the most inopportune moments.
What I’m trying to say is that my biggest problem is just being myself. I think I use my blog and social media to rectify pieces of me that are either broken or nonexistent, and I want very much to belong to something, but always feel as if I’m coming up short. One of my co-workers actually said something very interesting the other week. We were talking about perfume, and that conversation turned into girls who wear perfume, then girls who wear too much perfume. “When a girl wears too much perfume,” he said, “I know she’s trying too hard.” I once heard that all you need is two squirts — one for the wrists and one for the throat. Anything more is too much. I cleared my throat and looked out the window. I’m pretty sure that very morning, I’d done, like, five or six squirts. I dipped my chin. Did I smell?
I’ve never been one of those people who are who they are, and if you don’t like it, well then deal with it. I wish I could have that kind of attitude. Sometimes I even act like I have that kind of attitude, even when inside I’m feeling about as thin and insecure as a plank that has to carry the weight of, say, Rubeus Hagrid, God love ‘im. It is easy to tell myself, just write what you feel, when you feel, and give no explanations. People will either like you or they won’t. It’s not a big deal. My cousin, Emily, once told me that sometimes you just have to fake it, even when you’re not feeling it. “But, I hate faking,” I said, “I’m a horrible faker.” She did that thing she does when she lifts her shoulders, draws a breath, raises her eyebrows, and looks to the side, as if to say, “well…” It reminded me of the old saying, “Fake it till you make it.” In high school, I used to pride myself on not faking with anyone. If I liked you, it would show. If I didn’t like you, I’d still be polite, but I wouldn’t go out of my way to make you feel like the Queen of England.
The final word is that I just want to be. That’s all I’ve ever wanted — just to be. Over the years, I’ve had people, namely my parents, fighting with me about who I should become, why can’t I be this way or that, what I should do with my life, and maybe they meant well, but I think that’s partly why I have such a hard time just being who I am. Sometimes, I even forget who that is. Sometimes, I feel like who I am is so many bad things, or they’re things that I perceive being bad, that I just shut down and be nothing. Honestly, I hate shutting down. I’m tired of shutting down. I’d very much like to start back up.
