Thinking out loud.

Growing up the way that I did; reserved, quiet and unseen, I never really felt like I was an important part of... anything, really - my family, my class or even the human race. My theatre of experience felt like something that was happening to me and and not from or because of me.

So I created my own little world, and only a few would have the privilege of being a part of it except me.

I was your unfriendly neighbourhood introvert but I wanted to be around other people and I couldn't stand my own company.

The way I was an introvert was unhealthy and it pushed more people away than I had intended. I wasn't just an introvert - I was an anti-social butterfly.

It had reached a point where my attitude in strenuous social situations needed me to be babied, and I was ungrateful for it.

I think I've developed the presence of mind and vocabulary to say ''I'd really like to have time to myself'' when my social battery runs out but I picked it up too late.

I didn't want to peeve anyone with my attitude.

In response, I overcompensated and became an extrovert - dropped the emo act for a colourful rebrand, started smiling & laughing a whole lot more, charged blindly into almost every opportunity given to me for conversation even if it was the same ol' chit chat. 

But here's the thing; I've always known that I can be a social person, an emotionally responsive person. I was trained to ignore myself, I chose to downplay the importance of those traits and it made me spiritually dull.

I suppose that heart for people was always there, but always getting hurt so I sheltered it from everyone who may have really needed it and that may very well have been the thing that had pushed people away.

Around high school times, a friend of mine said that I shouldn't close myself off from good people on the account of others' wrongdoings, and it only sunk in years after the fact.

Story of my life, right?

Maybe I became an extrovert because I love being around people but it may also have been motivated by the fear I have of people leaving me.

I figured that I won't have to be alone if I'm always friendly and likeable.

Even in the middle of dynamic conversation, I still feel alone, but it's more in my head than anything and I know that - can't expect to shake childhood trauma off overnight.

In my most private moments, I'm sensitive to the elemental balance of my character - I used to be reserved so people could see me as guarded, now I'm an outgoing person who knows when it's time to take a step back and recharge. I used to be a cold thinker who'd only focus on the issue, now I have the capacity to be empathetic with people and logical in my problem solving.

I'm the best of what I've always been and learning from the worst what I used to be. But it's not like I'm exclusively one thing over another - I possess the ability to be warm and personable, but I'm just as capable of being distant and in need of alone time.

I needed the freedom to be greater than the bad feelings I've provoked, it's too challenging to make my identity hold together with what people remember about me.

Ever since that conversation ended, understanding the fullness of my character has been a lot easier because I'm not competing with inconsistent ideas.

No one should have to.

To be perfectly honest, I barely recognise my life but maybe that's the whole point. If you lose something you never imagined, you'll find something you never dreamed of.

But don't mind me, I'm just thinking out loud.

Grace and peace, bud. :)

Coolest regards,

- Your Friendly Neighbourhood Kenji