This time, my visit home felt so very different. Maybe because it has been a long time since I went home. Or because what I expect out of life has changed. It felt good to be the kid and to be addressing someone else as "Aunty" instead of cringing on hearing that about you. It felt good that I was there in my world, not having to worry about interaction or things that I can't even define anymore.
I guess it's not really about being the kid. It's about the pretense you don't have to keep up. It's weird how much you pretend when you are grown up. You pretend that you are above all things normal, that you don't feel sad when someone doesn't talk to you, you just convince yourself to let it go. You laugh so hard as though it was the funniest joke you have ever heard but all you want to do is break a vase into a thousand pieces. Fun becomes partying and getting lost in the unknown and not having to bare your emotions to anyone. When old memories are rekindled, its a weird feeling, that of sweet pain, something that is complete as it is incomplete. And as beautiful as this emotion is, we just don't want to feel it anymore. We learn to push away that morbid feeling when we are no longer the priority of someone's life. It takes something smaller with each time, to build another layer, to build another wall.
We put so much pressure on ourselves to 'appear' perfect every moment of our life, as though the whole world's problems depend on us, when we can hardly piece our own life together. We keep getting more and more vulnerable and we keep pretending that we are tougher than we ever were. We break down so much more often in the pursuit of becoming unbreakable.
All I am trying to say is, you aren't alone. Each of us is stumbling along on our own way wondering when this pretense will finally end. When we will no longer have to worry about the people judging us for being who we actually are. Waiting for someone to come and heal the cracks in our hearts into a scar, a scar that we will cease to remember exists.
Until then, don't be afraid to feel. Don't be afraid to believe. Don't be afraid to break. Don't be afraid to fall.
Because as much as we would like to believe that being imperfect is the most abnormal thing, there is, in fact nothing more natural. So, go on. Just be.
On that note, this song.
I guess it's not really about being the kid. It's about the pretense you don't have to keep up. It's weird how much you pretend when you are grown up. You pretend that you are above all things normal, that you don't feel sad when someone doesn't talk to you, you just convince yourself to let it go. You laugh so hard as though it was the funniest joke you have ever heard but all you want to do is break a vase into a thousand pieces. Fun becomes partying and getting lost in the unknown and not having to bare your emotions to anyone. When old memories are rekindled, its a weird feeling, that of sweet pain, something that is complete as it is incomplete. And as beautiful as this emotion is, we just don't want to feel it anymore. We learn to push away that morbid feeling when we are no longer the priority of someone's life. It takes something smaller with each time, to build another layer, to build another wall.
We put so much pressure on ourselves to 'appear' perfect every moment of our life, as though the whole world's problems depend on us, when we can hardly piece our own life together. We keep getting more and more vulnerable and we keep pretending that we are tougher than we ever were. We break down so much more often in the pursuit of becoming unbreakable.
All I am trying to say is, you aren't alone. Each of us is stumbling along on our own way wondering when this pretense will finally end. When we will no longer have to worry about the people judging us for being who we actually are. Waiting for someone to come and heal the cracks in our hearts into a scar, a scar that we will cease to remember exists.
Until then, don't be afraid to feel. Don't be afraid to believe. Don't be afraid to break. Don't be afraid to fall.
On that note, this song.
