I wish I wasn’t so misunderstood

For so long, I have been running away. It’s hard to say why; I just can’t keep still. I guess I’m running towards something. Maybe a better me. Less complicated, more direct and fun. Somehow, this always gets misread as confused, lost, or reckless. I really want to tell my loved ones to butt out, yet I’m always the one letting them in and with that comes ridicule. I can see myself do this, time and time again. I make a decision, then ask, “did I do the right thing?” As if somewhere along, I’ll finally get that stamp of approval.

It’s been 31 years of trial and error. How can I get this equation right? How do I finally get seen for my true nature? I am not cruel or unkind and all I see is the gap between, “you just want someone to agree with you, rather than tell you how it is.” I might just be biting myself in the butt here. I wish I wasn’t so misunderstood.

I fight with myself religiously, as if I have a covenant with God that my mistakes are just unpleasant accidents. I have had many unpleasant accidents. I must be accident prone. Like many of my generation, I am still figuring it out. For one, I hate waking up in the morning so early yet having no real downtime before work. Or repeating myself over and over because someone misheard me. It makes so feel angry that no one seemed to have figured me out yet. The plain truth is that I just want to be understood.

I think the people you can see, are often the ones with little to hide or are just not so good at covering up. I have nothing to hide but when I look into my eyes, that all I see. Masks upon masks. Some I wear because of something someone said to me, some I overheard, others are what I think people think of me. Underneath all of that is shame. I think, I have never really felt how good and nurturing love can be. Part of that is because I am constantly reminded of how I’ve made others feel. Which confuses me because I’ve always given myself freely to the people I love.

When you habitually hear negativity, you can either turn cold or isolate yourself from it all. Or if you’re like me, it feels like that’s the only love you’ll ever get. I feel like I’m playing a game of ‘who gotcha’ but I always beat them to the punch before they can get me. In my mind, I’m saying, “I got you there.” Yet this exoskeleton is brittle, painful, and exhausting. Then I think, “why should I suffer in order to make you feel like you are right about me?” It’s an unfair game.

I don’t want to feel guilty for being myself. I definitely don’t want to hide. Where I want to be is respected for being myself. Those who may not know me might thing, well, why don’t you lift up the veil. Live your life, that’s what we’re all doing. All I can say is show me the way.