End of a Deception

Sometimes it is embarrassing to watch people being cheap imitations of someone else. Making someone else’s ideas as their own ideas. Making someone else’s words as their own words. Making someone else’s style as their own style.

All this, most of the time, raises from a desperation to become something else that they are not. Rather something they do not want to accept within themselves – their own essence that makes them, them. All this is done, so that they, we, you and me, are accepted by the society. Or to be precise, to be accepted by a certain few individuals that we are aimlessly pursuing to impress.

Is there really anything that is unique and original? Are we all really an imitation of everyone else? Adopting, consciously or unconsciously, traits  of multiple personalities that make us what we are now?

Until yesterday, I was drowned in the ruthless sea of self criticism of my own nature. Asking myself – Why couldn’t I be more like that person? That person who had once succeeded in capturing the attention of a person I wished to attract.

And then, suddenly it hit me, and I couldn’t stop thinking, if was it something to do with self esteem?

I still do not know.

All that I know is, in a certain unguarded moment, even to myself, I found out what “my style”, “my ideas” and “my words” were. I had downplayed my own  self esteem. Once, I set aside the silly pursuit to be someone else in order to be loved back, I saw and accepted my nature as is. And I couldn’t stop saying this to myself, “This is you. You are pretty awesome the way you are.”

I am all that I seem to be when I have a mind of my own, maybe when guarded with a high un-penetrable barrier or maybe when unguarded with all my walls down.

I am all that I seem to be when I do not seem to care who thought what when I spoke my mind out.

I am all that I seem to be when I listen to both my head and heart and do what I must do at that given moment of time.

I am all that and much more, and I have accepted it.

It all comes with a price. But at least, in the end, I do not feel like a sham.
—..

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