I don't know who I am. Not yet, at least. And a part of me is afraid that I never will know. Not in the sense that I'll walk through life aimlessly, or in the sense that I won't know what I want. But in the sense that, at my core, I won't know who I am as a person. Am I a good person? Am I a kind person? Would I sacrifice my life to save a stranger? These are the questions that plague me, because I think it matters to me that I am good and kind and would sacrifice my life to save a stranger, but I don't know if I am that person and that scares me.
It's not a fear that comes every now and then, either. It's a fear that consumes me, taking over my thoughts in every waking moment, with everything I witness. I go over every hypothetical situation in my mind, wondering what I would do, what I should do in each one. I imagine scenarios where I run away in fear, or where I rise up and become a hero. But a recurring theme is the fear of what people will think of me in the aftermath of my actions.
I wouldn't call myself a shallow person. I'm comfortable in my skin. I accept my flaws and I appreciate my strengths. But I am perpetually afraid of my mind. I cringe at every spiteful thought I have, and I look for hidden motives behind every kind word. I try to imagine myself as another person, and I try to imagine what they would think of me with everything I do. And I am constantly over-analyzing every look somebody gives me, constantly scrutinizing my every action. It's debilitating. And it's exhausting.
I try to stop myself from doing it all. I try to stop myself from dissecting my every decision. I try to stop myself from hating my thoughts. I try to stop myself from thinking. But with all the trying, I just do it more. I spend hours in bed before I can fall asleep. I reread homework assignments over and over, searching for a sentence that might change the way somebody thinks of me. I think about the implications behind the tiniest actions like an astrophysicist thinks about the beginning of the universe.
I am afraid. I am afraid of who I am. I am afraid of who I might become. I have no reason to be afraid, but I am afraid. I know that it matters to me that I am good and kind and would sacrifice myself to save a stranger. But I am afraid because I don't know if I am any of those things. I am afraid, and that is okay. I don't know who I am, and that is okay. I may never know, and that is okay.
ns 15.158.61.48da2
