My experience is unique, it's mine. So how could I be like everyone else if I’ve lived an unprecedented life?
What people don’t know about me is that, even though I might seem like a snappy bird and talk a lot, it’s actually very hard for me to open up and share personal experiences. Growing up in isolation and through loneliness, I became highly selective about who I let in, who I allowed to truly know what I’ve been through since I was a kid.
My experiences have shaped this perspective. Often, the feeling of not belonging, of being vulnerable, was pinpointed or even weaponized against me. And so, once again, I was pushed into living through loneliness.
Loneliness wasn’t just about being alone. It was about feeling like I was never quite part of something, even in my own home. I was surrounded by people, yet I felt like an outsider in my own family. It wasn’t just that I was different, it was that I was treated as different.
I am the youngest of five siblings. I grew up in a very loud home, often compared to the worst when I made a mistake and praised very little because the motto was, "Whatever you do, be the best." It was never enough. I was never enough for myself because I tried to live up to that motto, never stopping to reflect on past achievements, always moving quickly through life to the next thing, trying to be more and do better.
Having siblings with a big age gap only deepened my loneliness. It was like being an only child in a full house. I always felt like I was arriving too late to something that had already been lived. My mother used to say, "We did not want you, but now we love you a lot." I was a surprise. I was unexpected. And somehow, I always felt it.
These experiences shaped me and wired me into trying to fit in. We think little comments, bickering, and jokes are just that, family dynamics. But after a lot of inner work, I realized this shaped me even more into the person I am today. The daily struggles I face, my need to be heard, and my hunger to be seen all stem from that early conditioning. And it was not just a simple thing to shake off, it has been woven into the fabric of how I move through the world today.
I was in this space of constant proving, of trying to break free from this mold, when I encountered someone who solidified my fears in a way I did not expect, my teacher. I will never forget the sting of their words, “You will never be anything in life.”
It hit me like a punch to the gut. I had already been feeling like an outsider, like I did not fit in. But that was like someone confirming everything I feared, that I was nothing. And it was not just the words themselves that stung. It was the weight behind them, the way they tied into every moment I felt different, every moment I felt like I was less than.
I was already walking around with this sense of not enough, and here was someone, an authority figure, reinforcing that belief. It was like a knife to the heart, but not just for that moment. No, it lingered. I kept hearing those words in my head, "You will never be anything in life." It was not just a sentence, it was a label.
At first, I swallowed it whole. I believed it. For a while, I thought maybe they were right. Maybe I was nothing. Maybe I would always be this outcast, always chasing something I could not reach.
But here is the twist, I did not stay down. That sting, that wound, it turned into something else, a fire. I decided that if they thought I could not do it, I would show them I could. I would show them I was something, not just to them, but to myself too.
And that is when it clicked. It was not just about proving them wrong anymore. It was not even about proving anything to anyone at all. It was about proving something to myself.
I realized that, for the first time, I did not need anyone else’s approval. I did not need to live up to their expectations. What really mattered was my own validation. That fire inside me was not just to shove it in someone else’s face, even though my petty self would absolutely get a laugh out of that. It was to set off a bloody bonfire in me, to push forward for my own growth. Not because of their doubt, but because of the curiosity and hunger that burned inside me. The fuego was mine. It was not for them. It was about me.
I started to ask myself, what would it look like if I did not need to prove anything to anyone? What if, instead, I was doing all of this for the joy of creating, for the pure satisfaction of being who I really am? I did not need to fit into their boxes. I did not need to make myself palatable for others. All I needed was to be unapologetically me, even if that meant staying messy and not fitting in. Because, for the first time, I realized, I do not have to fit in. I am not here to fuck spiders.
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