“Now that i am free to be myself, who am I” - mary oliver
“Tell me about yourself” , don’t get scared, it's not an interview question. I don’t wanna know about your college major or how much you scored in that major. I wanna know about your true self.
What comes to your mind when you hear someone asking this question. Does it go blank or does it go crazy with all those thoughts and bucket list items of yours.
You know what, whenever I hear this question, my mind just goes crazy sometimes. I wanna tell everyone who I really am, how I define myself , how I see myself. All those things with every detail.
How I laugh like crazy when I see a relatable meme.
How much I like my mind when it gives those crisp and funny and flirty and romantic and sarcastic replies.
How my heart aches so much when i see my favourite people with someone else that i feel like almost bursting into tears.
How much I crave the existence of people I love whenever I feel at my lowest to hug all my pain and sorrows.
How my tummy and heart just flutters with butterflies that I go almost blank with all the love being poured on me all over whenever my favourite people hug me, kiss me.
How much my heart feels at peace, at ease, when people make me comfortable for who i am, make me comfortable in my own skin. Washing all my insecurities with their comforting words and those little actions that everything feels like a warm hug, everything feels like home.
How those pending lists of to-dos mess up with my mind that sometimes I just wanna give up, nothing else.
How even little accomplishment restores my lost confidence that I feel like I have bounced back straight from hell to heaven.
How even little or bare minimum things can make me cry like crazy.
How on Some Days I just want to spend my entire day in bed just switching between apps and scrolling mindlessly looking for something that can hold me together but don’t feel like talking to anyone.
I can go and on with each detail of mine be it happy or sad or anxious or depressed.
Do you also think like this, do these things also come to your mind when you get asked this question.
Do you also paint the version of yourself with the most beautiful and cheerful colours just like your heart wants it to paint.
Or do you stay back with your mind, holding it all back and paint it just with black and white, exactly how it will please the eyes of others.
Do you also feel this urge to tell people everything about yourself, just in the idea that people might treat you right after knowing everything.
Because that's how I see myself, like a book with every detail defined, like a poetry where every emotion is revealed and presented so beautifully, like a painting where everything is expressed so perfectly with perfect strokes and with most perfect colours that holds the gaze of a person who is looking at this not for moment but for life.
But would you take that risk? Putting yourself out there, putting every thought of yours like an open book. Because knowing everything also means where to hit you. Just the right place with the right words. Causing the deepest pain.
Because what we have been told is to keep things private, keep yourself private because people ruin things.
But this urge to come out doesn’t go anywhere, and I don't think it will ever go completely.
Because we all want to be understood by others. Maybe not on most of the days but on some days. Drunken on the idea to have that feeling of freedom for once at least.
Because that's the power we give to the people we love, being vulnerable with them and allowing them to give you everything.
I hope we all will find someone, someday. Who would really want to know about your true self, giving you all the freedom to put your thoughts without judging a thing.
Who would enjoy listening to every detail of you, you tell them as much as you do enjoy explaining them.
Their eyes will also light up and shine like stars, like yours. They will also share the same smile as yours with the entire face involved. Everything just so effortlessly without a single doubt.
But there is this thing with life, you don’t always get what you ask for. So until we find that person, we keep rewriting the “About yourself” version until we are assured that it will fit the ears of listeners.
But again, as much as we try to hide it, hold ourselves back it finds ways to come out, if not in the form of words, it will find it way through eyes or through other million verbally unspeakable ways.