Confession #1

Memories evade me. I'm confused. I can't tell who I am anymore.

Whenever you think or you believe or you know, you’re a lot of other people: but the moment you feel, you’re nobody-but-yourself.

-E. E. Cummings

Is it life that is quick, making it short or is it us? The people occupying this planet? Do we just rush through it blindly? Is it that making us miss the smaller joys and moments of happiness that can be found?

I don’t remember much of my childhood. Bits and pieces are still there in my mind. The still frames remind me that there was a time before all these responsibilities. I can’t say I remember much. What I do remember are memories that my parents speak about, but part of me still feels like it didn’t happen quiet like that. Just like rumours, I feel as though my childhood has been altered so I can feel content, but truth is that I don’t feel happy.

As an infant, I can’t remember anything. What infant can? And, as I grew up, the memories linger, however none ever seemed so potent that I can say, “Yes, this happened exactly like that.” I’ve heard that our childhood means the world, because it was when we were pure, untainted by the corrupt world, yet we can’t remember anything. It is as though it has been snatched from us.

Personally, I never thought I got to live my childhood fully or if I did, the memories are just locked away; hiding in my subconscious not wanting to be found. If it was the latter, then maybe I had a bad childhood.

Thinking of my past makes me want to recreate myself. The question is will I get the chance. Will I have the ability to break free and be my own person? Will I be able to live with myself if I become someone that my family has no say over? I want to be the girl I’ve always had to hide from them because their mentalities are exactly like their parents.

At this point, I don’t know who I am anymore. I think somewhere in the past few years, I’ve lost myself. I guess high school does that to a girl. The split personalities had gotten to me. I had to be the respectful and dutiful daughter for my parents and their friends. Then, with my best friends, I acted like myself for the most part, but I still felt unsure of myself. I wondered whether they’d accept me for my whole self, even though I’m not exactly sure who that girl is.

And, then at school, I acted another way because girls are ruthless. The prejudice bothered me. Having eyes on me bothered me. I never really enjoyed the spotlight and being the new girl, there were fluorescent lights directed towards you and it was blinding. High school was a stage and I was their main actress until things dialled down, yet part of me felt like it never did until it ended. Though, it ended thus leading to the confusion. I split my true self into three different people and now, I am so confused of who I really am.

I look at myself in the mirror and I don’t know what I see. A girl, obviously. She smiles and I wonder whether it’s fake or real. She laughs, but is there any joy behind it. Is it just a moment of happiness?

People tell me I’m too serious. They don’t know the real me. One thing is for sure, I don’t trust easily. So, I question myself. Am I really that serious?

Then, my mind wanders to another thought. Is it in the eyes of others that we define ourselves? Is it by their thoughts towards us that we are able to think of who we are? Or, is it us and our brain as well as our heart that allows us to define who we truly are?

You are who they think you are or you are forced to wear a mask and be something you don’t want to be. I feel like our choices dissipates in all the confusion as we search for an answer. It is as though we can never win in this world.

And, I think this is why we lose ourselves. At least, I think this is how I lost me.

Perhaps, that’s why I am so unhappy because I don’t know who the stranger in the mirror is. I guess, in the end, I’ll have to live trying to figure who it is.