art by maria medem
When I was younger I loved the idea of escapism, loved the actuality of it even more. Loved hiding out in worlds I created in my head, loved hiding out in worlds constructed by other people. Anything that made me feel untethered to the actual world, I loved and craved and sought out actively. I couldn't look my life in the face. I was like a soft scared animal whimpering in the corner of the bushes in the dark. I thought that by retreating deep into myself I would find solace and comfort, except it never came; it just burrowed me further into a yawning chasm of loneliness. I was trying to protect myself, you have to understand, it was an act of self-preservation — however misguided it was. I was doing the best with whatever ideas and concepts I had in my head at the time. If you believe in astrology, I'm a Pisces rising, if that helps. I spent the first nineteen years of my life burning myself up with all the intuitive, impassioned, hypersensitive energy I had inside of me, instead of turning it around to cultivate meaningful relationships and interacting with the world at large. I was so obsessed with identity, and consequently became obsessed with things like astrology, personality types, enneagrams, etc etc. I wanted my sense of self to be definable, concrete and somewhat tangible; I thought it would help ground me, help understand my innerness better. But I think all it did was alienate me from the world even more.
I'm starting to learn how to actively participate in my life. Looking it straight in the eye. Not being a teenager anymore helps massively, the realization of the fact that you're not as special or damaged or important as you used to think you were. I'm starting to understand that having a proper delineation of your identity and who you are is less important than just taking each moment as it comes and doing your best to respond and react to it authentically.
I don't want to box myself by defining my personality - to feel some the skewed sense of comfort - with terms like shy or introverted or reclusive or melancholic. I’m trying to adopt a worldview not centered on the self: using the self as a means to navigate and explore the world as opposed to focusing strictly and solely on your own life, your own self.
All the years I've spent wallowing in my room have now turned me ravenous. For life, for experiences, for connections. I’m no longer interested in escapism. What I want is to lean into life - to touch the heart of it, of the world, of the collective human experience, of other people. What I want is to live so vigorously and with such abandon and passion that it makes me sick.
I'm twenty one now and finally starting to live. I'm just glad it didn't take me longer to come to this. Despite everything, I love my younger self for where it led me, for where it's going to lead me. I have a lot of hope in whoever I'm going to become. For whoever I am in this moment, too.
This is something I have been thinking about a lot lately. I'm currently in the in-between stage, where I've realized how much I've missed out on because of different circumstances, while also knowing (hoping) that time will bring chances to fill those gaps and, like you said, experience life in its entirety. You really put my exact feelings into words.
I'm turning 18 soon, and it's... weird. I can't help but compare my own life's path to others', while also knowing my life has barely even started. It sometimes makes me happy to think of whatever may come, but it also sometimes makes me miserable to think of what didn't. Nonetheless, I will take this beautiful text as something more to hang onto these next years. It's relieving to know more people share this hunger for living.
I relate to this so much, especially the line of 'All the years I've spent wallowing in my room have now turned me ravenous.' Until mid - 2021, I was very much like your teenage self. The first time I realised I was changing was when I started losing interest in fiction and actually wanted to go outside. It was very horrible for me, because all my life I had never wanted to, so I kind of trapped myself in that habit, I felt like I couldn't do it. I'm in a much better place now, and every day I write about the lovely things I see. I yearn for the same things you do, and I love looking out the car window, I want to meet people who I can connect with, and I realise that I really do want to live.