Wronophobia

There is a word for the fear of being seen as you are and the incessant thinking that you can’t be loved being yourself. They call it wronophobia. I don’t think they should have a word for that because it’s just a fancy way of creating yet other differences, making people more conscious of it. Who are we anyways? I don’t suppose any of us is one person, confined to a certain description of how we are. I used to call my friend a hypocrite back when I was this angry emo girl wanting nothing to do with anyone in the world. I later realized that it’s not that she was being fake, she just had a different approach to different people. However, in our obsession with people and companionship and being liked I sometimes think we lose sight of our own shadow striving to be all that would be ‘acceptable’ and avoiding our own selves, running around, always tired, always short of breath.

IMG_20160702_015708_790I’ve never liked myself too much. I always assume I’m boring and dry and have a repetitive reel going in my head and that no one would want to listen to my crap. I’ve looked around at the chirpy, sassy girls with their comebacks and their sense of humour and always felt as if I lacked something; That I was inadequate. Your immediate outward personality is what draws people to you, very few reach in and understand the person that you are. People come among people to have fun, to laugh. No one wants to spend time breaking down the boring barriers and come to the hyper talkative person that I believe is inside all of us. We’re made up of stories and each one of us is bursting to tell their own. If only, each one of us was willing to listen too.

Growing up, you learn to manipulate yourself, to adjust according to people. Everyone wants to be included and in the process of trying to be likeable we lose sight of ourselves and let the belief that we couldn’t be loved if we weren’t a certain way, simmer, gaining momentum, striving to compensate for being what we’re actually supposed to be. Ourselves. It is a restless thrust forward driven by the applause rather than the cause, trying to curb the insatiable thirst for outside acceptance and admiration, our lives proliferating into delusional ideals of perfection and ‘goals’ with no regard to the thought that each of our journeys is different, our stories unique and amazing in their own kind.

The fear of being unloved and unwanted is too great to overcome and so we try to cut off the parts of us that are flawed, crooked or inconvenient and unknowingly, initiate a  detrimental war against our own selves, battling to oppress the core of what makes us different. In the world that we live in now, self-esteem is like an empty bucket with a leak we desperately keep on scooping worth into, always striving to be a certain way, addicts for the reassurance of someone or the other to counter the self-sabotaging thoughts. The innocent wish to be accepted thus evolves into a disabling fear even when we don’t fully realize it taking its toll on our lives, gripping into us with claws so deep we can’t free ourselves without bleeding.

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I’ve since realized I’m not a perfect porcelain doll. I’m not someone with good comebacks or an amazing sense of humour. I’m complex and edged, full of scars and flaws and cracks but every edge of me is a part of my distinctiveness. They define me and complete me. They make me a whole person and I don’t have to strive for a certain ideal to be something to someone. The self confidence that I can be happy with my own self, peaceful with the voices in my own head gives me more satisfaction than anything I did to be liked did. Reclaiming authenticity is frightening. I feel like I’m meeting someone who had been trapped in a tower for too long and is now learning what the world is through new eyes. Despite all the stumbles of my metaphorical ‘sea legs’ though, I’m glad to meet myself.

20 Reasons why Everybody Needs A Her

So that day, I was cursing my best friend (I’m sure it must have been for no reason at all) and a few minutes later simply had to text her because I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to make Nutella brownies or Oreo cheesecake. Then, while making the Nutella oreo brownies she suggested, I saw Winnie the Pooh and got to thinking (random, I know) everyone needs a her to survive life. Cheesiness overload and I’d probably never live it down but here we go..

. She is the one person who has a conversation with you about underwear, life decisions, future and fictional characters at the same time. (and not lose track of any one either)

. She doesn’t get confused at your rapidly changing frequency. From crying one second, to laughing your ass off the next.

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. She could leave in the middle of an intense conversation and you wouldn’t even worry that it was something you said.

.  You absolutely need to talk to at odd times but still don’t come off as needy. Or worry about being clingy (which you are when it comes to her, tbh)

. You can sleep with her without your hormones questioning if you have jumped ship

. She is the one person who will be whatever you need whenever you need.

. She is always incredibly proud of your achievements and is there for you, when you don’t deliver to her expectations which, knowing you, no one knows why she has but she does and would push you for them even while taking up your time herself.

. When you diagnose yourself with numerous disorders and illness, she’d give you the slap to the head you very well deserve then cry about your constipation and how pooping is a blessing (It really is)

. You can stay silent sitting next to her or break out into manical laughter. She won’t question it, she’d just do it along with you.

. Who else can you discuss fiction with for hours and who will treat it as real life. Or that random senior she saw in the dining hall.

. She will send you stuff even when she is mad so that she does not have to rewind later because she knows you guys can’t stay apart for long. Like that meme that perfectly describes the way she farts..

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. She is the one person you can tolerate absolutely anything about that you wouldn’t for anyone else and vice versa.

. You always have someone to text random things to like how that guy from anatomy class wears nice shoes or how you embarrassed yourself infront of people you don’t even know or what you think about winter weddings and how the bride looks at the wedding of your neighbour’s brother’s daughter’s wedding which you attended for the free food.

. She will tell you off, fight with you for yourself and even when you hate it, sometimes its what you need.

. She is the only person you can be jealous about without coming off as a creep thus curbing your creepy side.

. Her opinion on everything is a must-have. From texting her, “I really need you to tell me blah blah blah”, to “should I wear this or not?”. Even if in the end, you don’t listen – the comfort that comes from knowing what she said about is unrivalled.

. She will share your life with you, even parts not to be shared and you wouldn’t even note it because thats how its meant to be in your head. Like how gorgeous does that boy look, his eyes man..

. She’ll listen to all your deep theories that you come up with when you should be studying up on hyperplasia but end up contemplating the existence of the universe.

. She’d listen to our complains and then kick your butt and tell you to actually read up on methods of contraceptions for your exam rather than making poor jokes about it.

. When she is 613 miles away and you want to have an emotional moment like writing an entire blog post about how great it is to have her (even though you both know you spend half the time being irritated) – You can.

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It’s the best feeling in the world to know someone would always be available if you needed a Paul Wesley threesome or go Bungee Jumping or a Care Bear Fest. Whatever, whenever. After all, who else would you call if you accidently murdered someone while trying to get the last oreo/nutella on the shelf. You never know, it could happen anyday (And ohh If YOU’re reading this, the body needs to be hidden. Get on a plane bitch) It’s the weekend and I want to do so many things and I miss youu

 

Wilderness we walk alone.

Love your solitude and try to sing out with the pain it causes you. For those who are near you are far away… and this shows that the space around you is beginning to grow vast…. be happy about your growth, in which of course you can’t take anyone with you, and be gentle with those who stay behind; be confident and calm in front of them and don’t torment them with your doubts and don’t frighten them with your faith or joy, which they wouldn’t be able to comprehend. Seek out some simple and true feeling of what you have in common with them, which doesn’t necessarily have to alter when you yourself change again and again; when you see them, love life in a form that is not your own and be indulgent toward those who are growing old, who are afraid of the aloneness that you trust…. and don’t expect any understanding; but believe in a love that is being stored up for you like an inheritance, and have faith that in this love there is a strength and a blessing so large that you can travel as far as you wish without having to step outside it.

– Rainer Maria Rilke; Letters to a Young Poet

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They say solitude is the most basic human condition and all the connections that we make are in an attempt to undermine its crushing reality.

Much of our suffering in relationships come from the expectation that the other person would somehow solve this solitude, that somehow we would not feel so alone, trapped in our own heads with no comprehension from another.
We forget though, that we came into this world alone and we have to deal with ourselves, by ourselves. Our problems are our own and to expect any relief from anyone else is but a mere illusion.

They say that other people can relieve that solitude, but that’s only for brief moments – They can give us a glimpse of something else, some place beyond the experience of reality – Some other, less lonely thing that we can only see in flashes, like a dream of a dream. Some place that we can not, as long as we are alive, ever know.

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We are all point masses, randomly searching for our place in this universe, striving to belong; We collide with others in the process, giving parts of us away, remaining a little less whole, or so we feel.

I’d like to think that the world is really a thing that is made new each day, regardless of what was left yesterday, for as people, we have to fill our emptiness on our own, command our happiness from within. I’d like to think we can control the order of things at least at that level; The most basic yet the most complex one.

At least, I’d like to think so.

No Going Back.

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Loss changes you. It might not be a change as visible as a splash of colour on a black and white painting but its definitely as if there is a slight shift in everything around us. As if the molecules disassemble and rearrange themselves, changing everything even as life moves on the same way like before, leaving us stranded on the shore.

You can pretend all you like, but the person looking back at you in the mirror is no longer whole and the empty place echoing within you does nothing to hide it.

You never really recover from some things. They call it heartbreak, because that’s exactly what happens. Your heart breaks and you’re never whole again and you can live or mask the scars with laughter and happiness but it sneaks up on you; The absolute cruelty of it all, the woes of your depraved soul desperate to find itself again and its all you can do to take a deep breath and smile.

Loss does one of two things to those it leaves behind – It meshes us together, forcing us to let go of every feeling we know to form some semblance of an existence again, or it tears open the wound, making us slowly bleed out, widening the divide so much that we’d do whatever it takes to try and pretend that shit’s not real. We know better though. Its a nightmare you cannot escape, no matter how much you scream and beg to be let out off. You’ll always be the person holding your war stories close, proud of your scars even as you lock them away within the confines of your heart. Always, at the precipice of insanity and even you go back to life, you know, in reality, there is no going back.

It’s Not Who You Know; It’s Who You Are: Advice From One Woman to Another

Yes, Yes and Yes.

Chocolate Vent

  1. Expect the best – This is what you deserve! It’s easy to hold on to old baggage from a previous relationship. But all of that should be left in the past – right where it belongs. Know that the next person you date will have their own baggage & will expect the best out of you as well.
  2. Don’t chase a man; allow him to chase you – Men are naturally inclined to be the “hunters”. They enjoy chasing so you’re not doing them any favors by taking that away from them. I know some men may say they like an aggressive woman, but at the end of the day if he’s a REAL man, then as the hunter, he should NEVER want to be the hunted.
  3. Let a man know you are not JUST girlfriend material but actual, wife material – A man should be able to tell this…

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The Magic of Being.

Recently, while looking up on Vincent Van Gogh, I came across some things that spoke to me.

“Proper self-respect, however, is also very dependent on relations with others.”

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It got me thinking; for all that we say about people, we are inadvertently connected to them, even in our distrust or hopelessness. When one lives with others, he is bound with them for we are all like a mass of atoms, mismatched but existing together as a whole, each of our actions, affecting the other, fueling us forward, setting us on our way. As for the feelings of affection binding us, they make us aware that we have a reason for being, that we might not be entirely worthless and superfluous but perhaps good for one thing or another. They keep us believing in all this universe has to offer, in the magic of being.

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No matter what we say, we need one another and are making the same journey as travelling companions. To share your thought with people is the most vulnerable you can be. It’s like offering your soul to them to do what they want with it, judge it, label it, read into it – However they want to. Conversation is the most magical of human interactions for it’s the most intimate you can be.  In one of her sayings, Amanda Palmer tells about the difference between wanting to be looked at and wanting to be seen.  When you are looked at, you can have your eyes closed. You suck energy, you steal the spotlight. When you are seen, your eyes must be open, you must see and recognize your witness. You accept energy and you create energy. You create light. One is exhibitionism. The other, a connection. Not everybody wants to be looked at. Everybody wants to be seen.

Game Over.

Life’s a game. We being simply the little objects on the screen played by God’s joystick, controlled by the buttons fate and destiny. We try doing everything our way, try to deflect our fate, to screw it in the face. What we don’t realize is that no matter which path we take, which jump we make our every action leads us back to that same destination and that is where we are all ultimately headed. We plan and plan and set our aims high, dreams flying and soaring high up in the sky. Fighting all sides, up, down, jump! Destiny making us go along, completing each stage, making us think we are winning, that we have the upper hand. You take shortcuts, use cheats, all to defy fate, to throw it off guard with our oh so genius moves smiling inside sure that you have now won.

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But you are wrong. Cheated by destiny which makes you think it’s leading you towards victory. After all, fate is the essence of the game, written by God himself. Going above all our tricks and schemes, striking down the game we built bit by bit and we’re helpless watching it all go ablaze the bright colors in the sparks of light. You shiver as you feel the cold wind bringing our very end. Blowing away the smoke as the embers die. The notes of the song fade away. The trumpet blows. The fanfare tune that signals Game Over. Signals ‘The End’