HOMECOMING

Take a deep breathe and breath out every negative impulse that has been running through your veins. Allow your inner self to grow out the cocoon made up of facades for your various personas. Let the tiniest piece of you that has been suppressed come to light..

Let us face it. The readily available attributes of our personalities are as a result of external influence. We let people and situations mold us into what feels like a lot of people. So much so that we do not get to discover ourselves. Why? cause it is not as important as ; fitting in or making Mom and Dad proud or setting a good example for our siblings and any other reason you could think of that excuses you from being your own person..

Since I was a kid, I always felt this consistent pressure to live up to my father's expectations. Partly, because I was really afraid of him and also since being a first born child automatically means that you are the tone setter and as a girl, you would have to work twice as hard for your father's approval. Well, at least that is how things were with mine..

My father was a genius (in his own eyes and in the eyes of all those who knew him). He was the top of his class since he started school and moved from that to being a straight A student to graduating uni with first class honours. Apart from that, he was undeniably talented. He played the Guitar and Piano, he painted and drew, he was a skilled photographer and videographer, he could speak seven  different languages ( foreign) and he took his time to perfect each and every one passionately..

Without saying, he expected me to follow in his footsteps. I had a stack of used canvases and watercolours that filled two huge boxes by the time I joined baby class. By the time I had graduated from preschool, I knew how to count and hold day to day conversations in French. Moving to lower primary, I could fully operate a computer and a camera that was mounted on a tripod, play the Guitar, Draw and my school performance was also very impressive since I managed to be top of my class report card after report card..

He used to tell me how hard he had to work in his time to show that I had no reason to be imperfect in anything. He hated that I used my left hand and made sure that I shifted to my right hand. He wanted to have a Neurosurgeon in the family and that responsibility fell on me..

I would do all these things in routine until I managed to convince myself that I loved it and enjoyed it. It is not that I am not appreciative of the skills that he equipped me with or the knowledge he drove me to attain. I really am. In another life though, I would have traded drawing and photography for singing and dancing. Traded French for Spanish. Traded the Guitar for a Drum set. I would have also loved to keep using my left hand. Also, I knew from my very first book that I wanted to be the second Jane Austen. I never got to pursue any of my interests as a kid, always trying to follow my father's words to a T. I ignored all what I wanted to be all that my father wanted..

Truth is, it is like that for everyone. Someone somewhere expects you to be a certain way and their opinions have become so comfortable in your skin that you are reduced to a walking and talking version of their every expection. A conundrum is born as we grow older and realise that there are other people who expect us to be a different person for them too. Our parents aside, there is our teachers and mentors, there is our friends and partners, there is our political and religious leaders , lastly, there is our gender which also primes us to uphold a specific character.To a point where we feel like the version of our true selves would cause nothing but abandonment..

I feel like all this is cause enough to lose one's self. Sitting down with myself, trying to figure out what I want from myself has proven to be more difficult than willingly allowing myself to be puppeteered. Since every time I try to do something, I find myself questioning what someone else would have to say about it. My constant need for approval from the people who technically make me who I am is a means to push my own opinions on matters further  from my line of sight. 

Life is too short to lose touch with yourself. Too short to not go after the things we truly desire. Things that make us happy. There is so much peace in being the author of your own your story..

That said,it is time to get myself back..