daydream - the smashing pumpkins

i’ve been writing a lot of one sentence journals lately that i can’t quite talk about. ideas and realizations that come to me at random times when my frontal lobe randomly snaps to its place while i’m doing laundry or my makeup or when i’m rolling the first cigarette of the day.

what i will talk about though is being wanted and the internal monologue that comes with it.

i wasn’t popular on my teenage years. i wasn’t wanted, i wasn’t perceived. i had a few friends, the ones weird enough to be my friends especially in the school environment i spent my teenage years at. i wasn’t popular.

when i was around 14 i was still going to summer camp. on that year i had the worst summer camp session of my life, and some of the worst 3-weeks of my life in general to be honest (at least that’s how it felt). the summer camp i used to go to was a very toxic environment which i started realizing on that year and made sure of some years down the line. the kids were mostly private school kids with a lot of attitude and a lot of opinions. and i don’t think there’s a more cruel age group than middle schoolers. there’s also not a more insecure age group. they kind of go together.

a lot of the things that happened then i have forgotten about, but some have stuck with me to this day, even without realizing. someone jokinlgy mocked my laugh the other day and even though i know they love it, it still brought back a lot of unpleasent memories i thought i had deleted from my brain.

as a non attractive girl in summer camp at 14, i was getting a lot of hate. i was a very easy target at the time. i cared a lot even though i didn’t want to admit it at the time and for years to come. there was this one kid specifically that hated on me all the time, even before i acknowledged his existence. his main point was that i was fat. we had this duty at camp where different people from the group were respondible to prep the table daily. on the day i was on duty he kept saying that i shouldn’t be trusted with this job because i’d eat the food before they’d be able to come over. and that’s just one example.

we had this night at the camp which was probably my favorite one out of the entirety of them. we would go on stage and not exactly scream but repeat some type of screaming sequence we would come up with as a group. when we were rehearsing i remember this one guy who slapped my head from the back so bad i almost fell down and then he turned to his friends, so proud, as they all laughed. after that i decided to not take part by lying and saying i was feeling sick. for the entirety of the session i had to go to the doctor daily because i was constantly feeling ill and had low blood pressure because i wouldn’t eat anything.

that summer i made one friend there. he was also picked on for different reasons that are not relevant in this story because that’s his story to tell, not mine. we became inseperable for a while, even after summer camp. but we had this night that i remember was a huge deal, it was a dance. people would ask people to go to the dance with them and all that. my friend and i decided to go to the dance together. at some point i lost him because he was hanging out with someone he had a crush on or something like that, i am not exactly sure anymore. my other friends were there but they were sick of me being a bit down i think, which i don’t blame them for. so i went back to our house and cried on my bed. then someone who was on parole came and told me that i couldn’t be there while the dance was going on. so i went back to that place that i so hated and hang out with people that hated me. that was the day i decided to stop laughing. for many years i was mocked about my laugh. for years the only people that would hear me laugh was a very carefully selected group of friends.

overall, it was just a bad time. and it came with so many other things that i don’t really care to comment on. my main point is that i was ridiculed because i wasn’t wanted, because i wasn’t attractive. so for years i would blame people’s behavior on that. and i stopped trying. that’s around the time when i realized that if i am going to be made fun of for not being skinny, i might as well own it. i started exprecing myself more and more after that summer. it took me years to get to a point where i completely stop caring about others’ opinions on me and my appearance, but i was making steps constantly.

around a year ago i think, or maybe more, a friend told me something that completely changed me. it was this person i used to go to middle and high school with. she told me that she always admired me because i was always true to myself. i never cared about what people thought of me. i was always exprecing myself even though it wasn’t a liked version by most. i was always bold with my appearance. i was always bold, confident and joyful. that’s how she presented it. this made such an impact on me for two reasons. first, i didn’t feel like that at the time. i didn’t feel like i didn’t care. i did care, just not enough to influence the entirety of me completely. second, i didn’t know i was perceived at the time. i didn’t think anybody noticed me.

my favorite movie on my teenage years was “the perks of being a wallflower”. this movie will always and forever be connected to my soul. i loved it so incredibly much. i watched it for the first time when i was around charlie’s age and i resonated with him a lot in almost all ways possible. i grew up with this movie by me. i can’t recall how many times i’ve watched it. i can recall the last time i did though. it’s been years already but it was when i moved to brighton. by that time i didn’t feel like charlie anymore. i could see myself in different characters. as i grew older i started seeing myself in the older characters more and more. at the end of the movie sam is telling charlie that it gets better. she says “‘ive been away for two months, it’s another world. and it gets better.” that’s exactly how i felt the last time i watched it. and that’s exaclty why that was the last time i watched it. i completed that cycle. i no longer am any of these characters. i grew past all that. i will never completely resonate with it ever again.

being perceived is a tricky concept for someone who didn’t know that anybody noticed them for years. being wanted for who i am is even trickier. it’s very easy to question the person who wants you. i might not be the girl i was 6 years ago but it’s still weird. because i started my development being unlikable for not being attractive and i ended my teen years not being liked for who i am as a person. so sometimes it feels like i am pretending. what if the person they like is not who i am? how could anyone like who i really am? it’s kind of like impostor syndrome in a way.

no one is liked by everyone and that’s completely fine. and if i could go back i wouldn’t change anything. everything i’ve lived through has made me who i am. we really are our experiences. i was so sad when i was 14 because i was kind. i was an easy target because i was soft. but when i was 17 i wrote an essay for one of my classes and my teacher commented the best compliment i’ve ever gotten. he said “i am humbled every time i read your reflections. it takes great strength to be vulnerable. i feel grateful to be your teacher.” it takes strength to be vulnerable. i wouldn’t change a thing about how i dealt with things. even though those things sometimes pop out of no where and little things can ruin my mood randomly because of their connection to past experiences.

being liked and perceived completely is still a difficult concept to grasp though. the first time i met someone that could understand everything going through my head and them still staying was crazy to me. it still kind of is. there’s this one person in my life who is important but used to be even more. they completely understood. they saw me and right through me during some very hard times. they saw me at my worst in terms of craziness. and they still stayed. i couldn’t understand why. i couldn’t understand how they saw all of me and still stayed and liked me and showed me love and affection during those times. they showed me kindness and understanding.

i have since toned down my craziness. i am older now. i can regulate my emotions more. but also, i trust more that someone can like me. i no longer am the crazy girl i was when i 18. i am at heart, but i am much more stable. that person showing me kindness had a massive contribution to me trusting everyone that has come after them. i am not going to say that it’s all thanks to them. i am not everything i am because of someone i met when i was 18. but i learned so much about myself through them. and i will always be thankful for the time we had together because now i can be with someone that i absolutely love and adore and not go crazy. i can understand my needs more. i get to see myself from a different perspective than just my own.

i am constantly learning how to treat others and how it feels to be loved and admired, at least in a romantic sense. i’ve had my fair share of luck, actually, no. i’ve had more luck than most people in platonic relationships. that’s easier to handle now, it’s more effortless. But I really enjoy this process of learning to love myself as i’m learning to love someone else too.

people always say that you shouldn’t be in a relationship if you’re not good on your own. i agree in a way, you don’t need anyone to be ok with yourself. but when it’s right and good and full of love, it definitely heals you. or at least it speeds up the process.

after i met my now partner, i remember i called up my friend and i was telling her about him. i told her that he did everything i needed from all the previous people in my life, without even asking, without knowing, without questioning it. so at first i was confused because every act from him was so genuine and effortless and i couldn’t grasp why or how. how did he book a flight with no return to come and see me in my city after a few days of knowing me? how did he do it when others before him wouldn’t even take a bus? how did he know? how did he want to do this?

we really are our experiences. and it’s nice to be listened to and loved and cherished for who you really are. but it does require some discomfort and strenght to be vulnerable. and i am glad that i have that and someone else also has that for me.

being perceived is tricky. it takes some getting used to. it’s so rewarding though.