I Pretend I Have It Altogether.

I could be laying next to someone and I realize I have never felt so lonely

Am I happy or am I just trying to be??

Am I a good person or do I want people to just think I am??

I drive down long roads from the past reminiscing of when I was 17. Mourning the past like it was better than it was. Fearing the future.

Clinging to old loves like I won’t find a new one. Or clinging to old loves hoping they can teach me to love myself.

Looking at my reflection like if I changed maybe then I’d be happy.

I scroll through a news feed. Sometimes I wonder how people perceive me. If the life I paint across social media is even real or if the girl looking back at me is just good at faking it??

I ask do people like me, then the bigger question than that is do I like myself and the person I’ve become?

Seeking validation through likes of people I don’t even know. Staring at a screen and obsessed with it.

Sometimes I feel like I’m an actress in my own life playing this role of perfection or just wanting my life to be that way. The pressure I put on myself almost makes me want to crumble sometimes.

I’ve spent a lot of my life thinking something was missing within me. Hoping good grades, promotions, and awards would fill this void. But it hasn’t.

I have a resume that glows and a reputation to be proud of, but it doesn’t feel like it’s enough.

Across the board I look like I have it together. On the outside I don’t look like I’m falling apart, but sometimes it feels like I’m breaking into little bits and I don’t know how to put myself back together.

I stand in a house with people who raised me and sometimes I feel like they don’t know me.

But then it hits me, maybe I don’t know myself.

Because I asked myself the other day what makes you happy? And I didn’t know how to answer it because I didn’t know.

I asked myself the other day how would you define yourself? And I realized I was describing the person I wanted people to think I was.

I looked at a calendar with dates filled, appointments, and events.

I am making it through 24 hours, but then it hit me am I actually living?

And is it a life I want to?

Is it one I’m proud of?

Not to make my parents, friends, and family proud, but me.

I asked myself the other day “when was the last time you were happy?”

And I thought back to a year, a really long time ago.

Sometimes I feel like I’ve spent so much time trying to appease others I lost myself along the way.

Playing this role they needed without realizing the emotional toll it’s taken on me.

And there are moments I don’t know who I am, who I want to be, where I want to go or where my next move should be.

Instead of trying to get those answers, I just keep painting this picture of how I think I should be.

I look at others and I wonder, “does anyone else ever feel lost in their own skin?”

Because I keep trying to find home in other people, in other places, in other things but I don’t know where to find it within myself, to point where I want to stay and not keep running.

I run away, but no matter where I go, I can’t escape this feeling like the person looking back at me is a stranger.

sad-girl-faking-smile

Only You Knew Me & Got Me.

In the midst of losing myself and pretending to be a lot of things I wasn’t, maybe I had everyone else fooled. Maybe I even had myself fooled, but not you.

Despite the front I put up and the walls I hit behind, you saw right through me.

It’s scary to meet someone who knows you better than you know yourself.

It’s even scarier to meet someone who is so much like you, you realize you can’t pretend around them.

Someone who understands the things you don’t say.

Someone who takes time to read between the lines, between awkward facial expressions and fridging hands.

Someone who can tell you’re nervous because of a habit no one else has watched closely enough to pick up on.

Someone who can tell what type of day you’re having based on your tone or the dialect you choose in a single text.

When the words, ‘how are you?’ carry a heavy weight because you know the only reason they are asking is, they know something you haven’t even told them yet.

You wonder how two people connect on such a level where dialogue isn’t needed to understand one another.

Arms you can collapse into when everything becomes too much. And you don’t even have to feel bad about it.

Hands to wipe your tears, even though very few people have ever seen you cry.

And someone to tell you, you’ve never looked more beautiful even though you feel like a mess.

I played the role of what people needed. I played the role of what I thought people wanted.

The cost was losing myself at the expense of appeasing them.

But I never had you fooled.

You’d still manage to look at me across the room and it was a simple exchange of contact without any words of ‘why are you trying to be this person you aren’t?’

But you never tried to change me or push me in one direction or the other. You just walked with me accepting me, realizing when this phase ended and everyone left, that’s when I would need someone the most.

You took the time to learn about every scar running your fingers over it showing me the past didn’t have to hurt and it was okay to feel these things that deeply.

You took the time to learn exactly why I was the way I was and you taught me I wasn’t to blame for a lot of the things that happened to me.

You took the time to love me and accept me for exactly who I was and through your acceptance, I learned to like myself a little more.

Healing started and ended with you. Because you taught me who I was. You taught me about the person I wanted to be. And you showed me in a world full of people who spend a lot of time pretending to be someone they aren’t, I didn’t have to anymore.

155823_00_2x