LJ Idol: What they say about me
What do people say about me?
I have no fucking clue. Despite the fact that I can read people very well, have a solid grasp on who I think I am, and am an enthusiastic Psychology major, I have a very limited idea of how others view me.
I could get pretentious and say it's because I don't care. I could say I'm above the opinions of others. But to be honest, I'm the opposite to almost a fault: I cling to people, wide-eyed, and wonder how they perceive me. My mind runs in circles every night wondering what certain people think about me. I think about how important I am to people, but I can never answer my own questions. It almost feels like I simply can't exist outside of my own existence -- for some image or conception of me to be in someone else's head disturbs and fascinates me, and for some reason I have trouble honestly believing it. Whenever someone says to me, "Oh we were talking about blah de blah and thought of you," or, "I thought you'd like this," or even a simple "thinking of you," I kind of freak out. Not in a bad way, really, but I am profoundly confused.
I don't mean to get all psychoanalytic on your asses when I say this, but I wonder how much of it has to do with my childhood. I grew up under the assertion that I shouldn't buy into this touchy-feely "you're special" thing. I grew up with very caring and supportive parents, but they were basically devoid of emotional and physical warmth. I don't feel mentally bonded to my family; we haven't really talked. I feel like an item to them, in a way. Something to be factored into various situations, something to be considered, something that needs to be taught and instructed and built. An extra thing. A thing birthed and given opportunities to exist; I am my own base, emotionally. In a lot of ways it's strengthened me, I don't deny that, but on another level I have this blankness when I think of myself in the minds of others: I am a thing to all but myself, right?
I have to prove myself, work my way so thoroughly into someone's life that our existence becomes unified enough that I don't see their thoughts of me as being particularly outside myself.
I have very, very intense relationships.
Every time I get a compliment, any kind of invitation, a note, a comment, any act of kindness done for the sake of me and not someone's ego, I am startled and confused (usually in a good way).
I don't assume, unlike many people who don't expect others to have high opinions of them, that I have a bad reputation or some kind of repulsive nature that keeps people away from me; I simply don't think I am important enough to warrant time and space in someone else's brain.
Well, "simply" is a bad way to put it, because I know there's something else at work here: my own perception of myself.
I have considerable pride over how well I know myself. I can communicate rather easily my likes and dislikes, habits, beliefs (the ones I'm comfortable with--and I know which those are); I know my boundaries and limits, my capabilities; I recognize my faults and shortcomings, my vices, and the points at which in various things I lose control of myself in some way or another. I have a clear image in my head of who I am and who I want to become, even though I have no definitive answer to the practicalities of what that may be (psychologist, etc?).
So how can I trust that anyone else could possibly have a comparable image? There must be some fault, some miscommunication, some missing piece, something extra, a faulty impressive, a quirk that stuck out; I'm afraid of being a caricature. There is nobody who could by any stretch of the imagination understand me as well as I do. And here's the real irony: I often feel like I understand other people better than others do, and in some cases better than *they* do. I logically know that the extreme nature of my opinion of myself and my self perceived by others cannot be as stratified as I want to think it is; likewise, I know I am not so supremely special that I have some power to read people better than anyone else. But I do have impressions of this, and they influence my behavior and thoughts.
I am almost embarrassed by the thought of my image in someone else's head. It must be all wrong. My physical body is a poor representation of me, I think. My head disagrees with the mannerisms my body expresses; I seem wrong and unreal on video. I say things I don't think I would ever say, and especially not in the tone of voice I used. My facial expressions are all wrong. Your impression of me, it's wrong. Stop looking.
I prefer to be read, to type and get my real self across without the intense layer of filters called the physical world. I discovered several years ago that I like myself better online than in real life, because I have more control over what I'm doing, and how people see me. I feel like my physical self and my mental self cannot reconcile very easily...and this makes it difficult for me to feel comfortable with the idea of other people thinking about me: it must be wrong.
There have definitely been times I felt those physical barriers were finally pushed aside. I don't think it's a coincidence that all but one of my serious relationships were strengthened by talking over the internet; I felt like I could show more of myself than in real life. I was able to reconcile the two aspects of me, and give the person I loved a chance to build an impression that's more real, more right. And then I know that the person they say I am is the same person I think I am.
But this has only happened a few times. Besides that, I am clueless.
------
Written for LJ Idol week 1 fucking million, with apologies to superhappytime for not swearing enough. Fuck.
I have no fucking clue. Despite the fact that I can read people very well, have a solid grasp on who I think I am, and am an enthusiastic Psychology major, I have a very limited idea of how others view me.
I could get pretentious and say it's because I don't care. I could say I'm above the opinions of others. But to be honest, I'm the opposite to almost a fault: I cling to people, wide-eyed, and wonder how they perceive me. My mind runs in circles every night wondering what certain people think about me. I think about how important I am to people, but I can never answer my own questions. It almost feels like I simply can't exist outside of my own existence -- for some image or conception of me to be in someone else's head disturbs and fascinates me, and for some reason I have trouble honestly believing it. Whenever someone says to me, "Oh we were talking about blah de blah and thought of you," or, "I thought you'd like this," or even a simple "thinking of you," I kind of freak out. Not in a bad way, really, but I am profoundly confused.
I don't mean to get all psychoanalytic on your asses when I say this, but I wonder how much of it has to do with my childhood. I grew up under the assertion that I shouldn't buy into this touchy-feely "you're special" thing. I grew up with very caring and supportive parents, but they were basically devoid of emotional and physical warmth. I don't feel mentally bonded to my family; we haven't really talked. I feel like an item to them, in a way. Something to be factored into various situations, something to be considered, something that needs to be taught and instructed and built. An extra thing. A thing birthed and given opportunities to exist; I am my own base, emotionally. In a lot of ways it's strengthened me, I don't deny that, but on another level I have this blankness when I think of myself in the minds of others: I am a thing to all but myself, right?
I have to prove myself, work my way so thoroughly into someone's life that our existence becomes unified enough that I don't see their thoughts of me as being particularly outside myself.
I have very, very intense relationships.
Every time I get a compliment, any kind of invitation, a note, a comment, any act of kindness done for the sake of me and not someone's ego, I am startled and confused (usually in a good way).
I don't assume, unlike many people who don't expect others to have high opinions of them, that I have a bad reputation or some kind of repulsive nature that keeps people away from me; I simply don't think I am important enough to warrant time and space in someone else's brain.
Well, "simply" is a bad way to put it, because I know there's something else at work here: my own perception of myself.
I have considerable pride over how well I know myself. I can communicate rather easily my likes and dislikes, habits, beliefs (the ones I'm comfortable with--and I know which those are); I know my boundaries and limits, my capabilities; I recognize my faults and shortcomings, my vices, and the points at which in various things I lose control of myself in some way or another. I have a clear image in my head of who I am and who I want to become, even though I have no definitive answer to the practicalities of what that may be (psychologist, etc?).
So how can I trust that anyone else could possibly have a comparable image? There must be some fault, some miscommunication, some missing piece, something extra, a faulty impressive, a quirk that stuck out; I'm afraid of being a caricature. There is nobody who could by any stretch of the imagination understand me as well as I do. And here's the real irony: I often feel like I understand other people better than others do, and in some cases better than *they* do. I logically know that the extreme nature of my opinion of myself and my self perceived by others cannot be as stratified as I want to think it is; likewise, I know I am not so supremely special that I have some power to read people better than anyone else. But I do have impressions of this, and they influence my behavior and thoughts.
I am almost embarrassed by the thought of my image in someone else's head. It must be all wrong. My physical body is a poor representation of me, I think. My head disagrees with the mannerisms my body expresses; I seem wrong and unreal on video. I say things I don't think I would ever say, and especially not in the tone of voice I used. My facial expressions are all wrong. Your impression of me, it's wrong. Stop looking.
I prefer to be read, to type and get my real self across without the intense layer of filters called the physical world. I discovered several years ago that I like myself better online than in real life, because I have more control over what I'm doing, and how people see me. I feel like my physical self and my mental self cannot reconcile very easily...and this makes it difficult for me to feel comfortable with the idea of other people thinking about me: it must be wrong.
There have definitely been times I felt those physical barriers were finally pushed aside. I don't think it's a coincidence that all but one of my serious relationships were strengthened by talking over the internet; I felt like I could show more of myself than in real life. I was able to reconcile the two aspects of me, and give the person I loved a chance to build an impression that's more real, more right. And then I know that the person they say I am is the same person I think I am.
But this has only happened a few times. Besides that, I am clueless.
------
Written for LJ Idol week 1 fucking million, with apologies to superhappytime for not swearing enough. Fuck.