Something Clicked
Sep. 9th, 2021 06:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
takethisforexampleI'm always talking and thinking and learning about nonconformity. I love things that go against the grain. I hate society. I've been effectively indoctrinated by various people into despising the status quo. I am weird as Hell. So that begs the question:
Why the fuck am I so anxious about what other people think of me?
I've been pondering this since last night and honestly, I think it has to do with the few specks of trauma I have mustered up from childhood. Growing up, I was encouraged to be my weird self up until a certain point. Once I hit those horrible tween years things got rough at school and with my parents, and that is when I think my confidence began to decline. I was harassed at school pretty often and ridiculed by certain people, and my mom in particular didn't seem exactly proud of me. People encourage you to be yourself until it strays a little too far from what they are used to. After that, you are nothing more than a laughing stock. Experiencing that reality when I was young really fucked with my head. Whatever I was supposed to be during middle and high school, I simply wasn't because (and this is the most important line here) I found that it is easier to conform than to deal with the consequences of nonconformity.
This concept can be clearly seen in how I've dressed over the years. I only started dressing the way I want to relatively recently, maybe in the last year and a half. But I'm still terribly worried about dressing certain ways in public. Like, a bit freakishly so. Take for example yesterday, when I was worried about wearing my spiked choker to class. I ended up wearing it and everything was peachy, I sighed my breath of relief, and went about my day normally. I worked myself up over nothing because when I'm afraid to dress a certain way, there really is no consideration for why. The "why" is that it's easier to not chance being stared at. But that's not very Ricky of me, is it? Who gives a fuck if people stare? I do, apparently. And this isn't just about fashion. My beliefs, my hobbies, everything falls under this. I'll admit it, I'm not as confident as I think I am.
And so, with this realization, I've concluded that all efforts towards nonconformity have effectively been in vain because I am too meek and too tired of the mere idea of perpetual harassment to do whatever the fuck I please. Suddenly I feel pretty sick of it. For many people, the fix isn't as easy as "stop giving a shit", but for me that's exactly how it's going to work. In fact, I'm going to really start pushing it here just to get used to it. Fuck it, I am going to wear the absolute worst, most attention-grabbing clothing I can find to class next week. If people look, they look. If people laugh, they laugh. I gotta get over it. I'm gonna get over it.
Watch me, motherfuckers.
Why the fuck am I so anxious about what other people think of me?
I've been pondering this since last night and honestly, I think it has to do with the few specks of trauma I have mustered up from childhood. Growing up, I was encouraged to be my weird self up until a certain point. Once I hit those horrible tween years things got rough at school and with my parents, and that is when I think my confidence began to decline. I was harassed at school pretty often and ridiculed by certain people, and my mom in particular didn't seem exactly proud of me. People encourage you to be yourself until it strays a little too far from what they are used to. After that, you are nothing more than a laughing stock. Experiencing that reality when I was young really fucked with my head. Whatever I was supposed to be during middle and high school, I simply wasn't because (and this is the most important line here) I found that it is easier to conform than to deal with the consequences of nonconformity.
This concept can be clearly seen in how I've dressed over the years. I only started dressing the way I want to relatively recently, maybe in the last year and a half. But I'm still terribly worried about dressing certain ways in public. Like, a bit freakishly so. Take for example yesterday, when I was worried about wearing my spiked choker to class. I ended up wearing it and everything was peachy, I sighed my breath of relief, and went about my day normally. I worked myself up over nothing because when I'm afraid to dress a certain way, there really is no consideration for why. The "why" is that it's easier to not chance being stared at. But that's not very Ricky of me, is it? Who gives a fuck if people stare? I do, apparently. And this isn't just about fashion. My beliefs, my hobbies, everything falls under this. I'll admit it, I'm not as confident as I think I am.
And so, with this realization, I've concluded that all efforts towards nonconformity have effectively been in vain because I am too meek and too tired of the mere idea of perpetual harassment to do whatever the fuck I please. Suddenly I feel pretty sick of it. For many people, the fix isn't as easy as "stop giving a shit", but for me that's exactly how it's going to work. In fact, I'm going to really start pushing it here just to get used to it. Fuck it, I am going to wear the absolute worst, most attention-grabbing clothing I can find to class next week. If people look, they look. If people laugh, they laugh. I gotta get over it. I'm gonna get over it.
Watch me, motherfuckers.
