2.9.26, 23:37
Among Others, I Dissolve
Being around people who I have to suppress myself and my opinions around is so alienating that I'd rather be alone. My solitude is less lonely than the constant self-monitoring and fear of being judged and outcasted. Many people are quick to judge me the moment I am authentic, honest, and vulnerable. I like people who naturally just "get" me. There have been instances where people made me feel understood and cared about, where what I have to say actually matters. But those moments are rare. I have to join an esoteric book club or meet PhD dropouts and outcasts with interesting lives in order to feel any semblance of belonging.
Faking social niceties. Endless small talk. Pretending I belong. Pretending I care about the status quo. It rots my brain and soul. To be who I am is to risk being misunderstood constantly, and I have to be willing to accept that and be okay with it. There's a very specific kind of loneliness that comes from being surrounded by others while having to constantly dilute my thoughts and preemptively manage how I'll be perceived. I'd rather not have to deal with that emotional labor. So I will spend my days going to cafes alone and immersing myself in my various interests. I don't want people to feel sorry for me or pity me. I only want to follow what my heart yearns for without anyone making me feel silenced.
What sucks now is that, now that I am a grown adult and have actualized many aspects of myself, I notice there are people who want to be my friend or know about my personal life, despite me not reciprocating, never having spent much time with that person, or despite me feeling like I cannot be authentic around that person. All my life I have been taught to "mask," to play the game of social niceties, to cultivate social harmony in order to prevent myself from ever being ostracized.
As a result, I unintentionally give the impression that I am more open and socially available than I truly am. In fact, I am secretly so deliberate and careful that it is notoriously difficult to become my close friend unless I admire you.
It requires a very high cognitive and emotional tax for me to exist in spaces that require self-betrayal. That is most social spaces. I've already made immense effort to belong, and I can—and often do—partake in social harmony, but I find it soul-eroding. It is a strange thing to me that many people think that belonging is worth the cost of betraying themselves. My choice to remain alone is an ethical choice not to lie to myself. It is difficult for me to make friends because I feel I do not have a lot in common with most people, and that is okay. The moments of being understood matter to me because they prove connection is possible, not because I needed intensity.
For the past five years, I made many friendships because I wanted to break free from the confines of my social anxiety disorder that plagued my entire being. I wanted to go out and do things, to feel like I finally belonged with people, to not constantly feel like an alien or an outsider, and to feel that people actually… liked me. I also wanted to help others and be there for them. Ultimately, it did not fulfill me at all; in fact, it exhausted me and left me confused about my own identity and morals. By age 25, I have voluntarily cut off all of my friendships, and I'd finally feel that I can live my truth instead of pretending—but that would be a lie. Right now, I'm still negotiating with the world, as can be observed by my paradoxical need to justify my own solitude instead of simply stating: "This is how I live. Take it or leave it."