I could start with all sorts of questions or cliché quotes, but I won’t. Or will I? I’ll admit, now and then, I might slip in some Pinterest-style words. But they’ll be from my own memory, so you won’t even notice. I hope I can count on you to keep this a secret because we’re a team, and yet, we all know that I can’t invent the nail—that thing that’s already existed, emotions or thoughts that have been travelled by at least 1 out of 7,800,000,000 people. Different from you and me, but still the same.

I’m not saying this is the Pinterest quote, though it could be. But maybe it’s not, and that’s why it doesn’t have any quotation marks:

To find yourself, you need to unlearn years of social conditioning and education you got from people who themselves have been socially conditioned. And to see yourself as that child who hasn’t yet been asked what they want to be when they grow up, while someone else answers for them.

But, I quickly see the problem, don’t I? Yes, you were a child back then, still not knowing yourself, not having discovered your skills or preferences. You didn’t even know what colour you liked. And before you could find out, you were dressed in blue, maybe in your older brother’s clothes.

Exactly, we were manipulated, weren’t we? Isn’t this annoying?

You are Orthodox because you were born in Romania. You eat chicken soup every Sunday because it’s your tradition. You took over the family business because that was the opportunity. You put money aside instead of enjoying whatever you want because you know what it’s like to feel the pinch. You talk to your sister and ask about her health simply because she’s your sister, and that’s what’s expected.

Who would I be today if the whole context were different? Would I have the same principles, preferences, fears, or dreams? I’m afraid not.

So, I could tell you that all you have to do is get rid of everything you’ve been taught, take a moment to listen to yourself, and find out if this is really you. Then you’ll know what to do, and everything will be fine. You’ll be happy as hell. But I’m not a hypocrite. Or am I?

Yes, we’re more realistic than that. We don’t have the time, resources, or even understanding from everyday life to do this. And in the end, we have one more realisation: it is what it is. We were born here, in the families we now know. We were dressed in colours we’ve learned to love. And, as you’ll hear in most corporate hallways, maybe next to the water cooler, “We work with what we have, man.”

Right, now that we’re clear on the big “what-could-have-been” question, let’s see what we’ve got.

We have fears, principles, preferences, triggers, all present and alert. A constant state of alertness. So we listen to them, accept them, and work with them.

I don’t know about you (she said, slightly arrogantly), but I’ve kept working on myself. I’ve kept trying to fix myself, to label myself, to solve all kinds of traumas and negative feelings. And I assure you, it was time well spent. I’ve had revelations, intense emotions, minor but relevant moments of real awareness, and many, many, many treasures. You should try it.

…Did I mention I’m also a hypocrite? I am. I am. I wasn’t going to forget to mention it—I was just postponing it because I’m a little bit cowardly.

I’ve had many brilliant and deep moments of brainstorming, when some (some! it doesn’t even matter who—you know who you are) might even need to take a trip, and I saw my BS. It wasn’t nice or easy, you know. Okay, it’s a little nice because now I get to be selfish and do things that make me feel strong, like admitting I’m a hypocrite. And then I get to be a victim and say, “It wasn’t easy, you know.” But beyond that, it gives me the chance to be more confused than I was before.

Complicated, I know. I would ask you to be patient with me, but I have no idea for how long.

If I thought about the issue mathematically, I’d get there faster, you’d say. But…

I’ll try this, though—tell you what I’ve found out so far:

I am chaotic, a misunderstood teenager, hyper-empathetic and impatient. I am too… everything. And mostly hard to follow or get. And the most problematic part (can you hear the drums?): Do I know how to, or can I love? And if not, why? And if I know and can, why am I asking you this?

I’ve also learned some positive things about myself—I won’t deny it. Moreover, I want to talk about them.

I know I’m hard to follow, but if you give me credit, understanding, love, patience, harmony, and motivation, maybe—who knows—I’ll get there in the end.

I’ve found out that I am, in a way, a standard for creativity. And if that’s not a big deal in my view, I don’t know what is. So, my most important trait is validated. Because that validates it. I should be happy, but the thing is… there’s more to it than that. Creativity brings along some other… traits. Please know that there are many other… traits.

I am creative, and this gives me madness, obsessions, chaos, (longing for) solitude, joy, sadness, pressure, anxiety, joy, curiosities, various emotions, madness…

But the good news is that I am creative, and through my creativity, I can easily express myself and be blunt, explicit, obvious, and make my feelings clear and coded, for everyone to see.

I feel like this one’s not good news either, but I’m going to tell you anyway: I see myself! I don’t always understand what I see, but I accept myself and work with what I have. Some things do me good, others hurt me. And it’s only natural that I make some decisions now and then, maybe excluding some of the bad ones.

I know I’ll sometimes feel the void. I’ll have moments, and moments, and moments, and it won’t always be easy (you didn’t even notice how I made myself a victim again, did you?). But I’ll take moments over a lifetime in a heartbeat.

I’m overwhelming, and I don’t compromise. I can’t be unhappy. Maybe I’m a bad person for keeping myself away from what brings me negative feelings. It’s mostly people, and they could feel hurt because of it. What I’m doing is selfish or even cruel. And maybe I do love animals more. This could be childish or defective. I don’t have the answers, nor do I pretend to have them. And it may be another escape, another experiment. Or more proof that I’m unable to commit or love.

But maybe I’m just that sensitive, and I need to do this to keep myself together.

Do you see me?