Changing the Pattern

I'm unsure of whether or not I am making one of the healthiest decisions I could make, or if I'm simply coping with the situation I find myself in. All I know is that I need to make a change.

Most of my life has been spent in a place of yearning. I yearned for more; more love, more friends, more opportunity, I yearned for more life. I've had this deep craving for something for so long that at this point, I;ve begun to think it might just be a part of who I am - but I haven't always had that mindset. For the longest time, I just tried to fill it. At first, with love. 

Its no unknown fact that having a crush makes life more interesting. That excitement one gets from getting ready in the morning, knowing that the effort being put in is going to be seen, and maybe even appreciated. It got me out of bed, it dictated how I cut my hair, it decided what clothing I wore; having a crush made my life feel interesting, as if living it for something more than myself made it all feel more significant. But at some point, the crushes stopped. Maybe I ran out of people to fantasize about, or maybe I matured to a point where the chase just wasn't as enticing to me anymore. Regardless of the reason, sometime in high school, it all came to a screeching halt. My clothes became clothing, my hair became hair. My life became as mundane as brushing my teeth at night, or wiping after I shit - it simply lacked its luster. 

I've written before about some of my less-than-smart decisions around this time in my life, mainly my premature occupancy on dating apps. Still, I think the context of this conversation explains the "why" of that decision more concisely. I felt without. Without excitement or anticipation - I needed something to look forward to. Before I knew it, my yearning slowly turned to desperation. I began to cling to any possible candidate for some semblance of something that made my life feel worthwhile, as if the notion that getting ready for someone specific was more significant than if I had been doing it solely because that's simply what being alive means. But the funny thing about a crush is that - in my experience, at least - it never really amounted to anything more than that. It was exciting, and sure, there were a handful of times a crush crushed on me in return, but it seemed as though they all came with a trial period - a three-month (max) duration in which it felt like maybe something could happen, that the constant spiral of yearning and achieving would result in retention, but it never did. These dating apps only amplified this circle, and it hit a breaking point in 2021. 

My experience constantly "searching" sought out a less-than-preferable avenue, one I justified as simply a means to an end - in this case, the 'end' being a way to afford groceries. Having a crush wasn't enough, and I soon realized that being the crush also didn't scratch the itch I had ingrained into my skin; I needed more. I made an OnlyFans the day I turned 18. I can rationalize it however I want; I can say that talking to men on the internet at the age of 16 groomed me into thinking that sexualizing myself was some kind of power move; I can say that I would get lusted after no matter what I did, so I may as well make a solid buck off of it; the truth is, I just didnt know any better, and the motivation to make myself seem as interesting as possible, in any way possible, overshadowed any doubt occuring in my mind. I'm not embarrassed by it, and far from ashamed. In fact, I like that part of me, one that feels confident and sexy even when I don't, however, the reality is that it was just another step down a path I had been embarking on for as long as I could remember - one that seemed like it gave me purpose.

By the time I reached the last few years of college, the life I had created for myself began to blur into the life I was trying to avoid. Though I had thoroughly cemented a way for me to never be entirely alone - friends to keep me company all throughout the day, men to keep me feeling interesting - something clicked where I realized it just wasn't what I wanted - at least not anymore. Maybe it was all the time that inevitably amounted to nothing, maybe the path I followed didn't have an end. Or maybe it was simply that I was growing increasingly bored with caring for it. But around the time that graduating became an imminent threat rather than something to look forward to, I concluded that my life wasn't being lived, and what's worse is that it never really was. I had spent so many years keeping others' attention; dressing the way I thought I should, making the jokes I thought they would find funniest, applying myself to be the person it seemed I was needed to be rather than the one I was - my life was anyone else's, but it wasn't mine. Every walk I took to get coffee, every outfit photo I posted, every shirtless picture I needed eyes on, and every date I found myself embarking on, it was all the life of someone else - a constant application of myself to adhere to someone else's way of living, to masquerade as someone who was above the level I had stooped to. And that's not to say I was inauthentic, in fact, I think at this time I was being the most true to myself as I ever had been before. But when the need for excitement, interest, and intrigue, the need for attention begins to overshadow the actual response you have to it, even doing something authentically begins to feel phony. My friends were my friends' friends, my dates were subscribers, even my clothing was second-hand, my life was a product of the environment I existed in. Even though they were my friends, and my dates, and my clothes, and it was my life, I began to lose myself amidst attempts to find where it all started, and how it all got to this point. I began to ask myself "how many of these people would still hang out with me if I didnt go bar hopping with them when I said I didnt want to", "how many of these men would still find me attractive if I didnt filter my responses to them?", "Would I still wear these clothes if I found them in Pennsylvania? Would I still buy them if they were $5 more on Depop?" - How much of my life is my own, and how much of it is me doing the things I think I should, living the life I think is normal for someone like me?

That was until May. I experienced something new this last Summer, something that not only shifted my perspective but changed what I feel I actually want in life. Im not sure what exactly it was, whether it was the time I got to spend with the people I loved, the sense of accomplishment I felt, or just the excitement of having finished college, I think I got to experience an enjoyable life. I met special people, and did special things that felt outside of the ordinary for me - outside of the life I had given myself before. But the thing that really drove my realization home was that, for the first time, at its culmination, I didnt feel as much of a need to replace it. Before, I had this gut wrenching sense of desire that often manifested in quick overturn from one thing to the next, keeping my day as occupied as possible, whether that be with tasks or people - I keep busy. But this time it was different. It was almost as if moving on so quickly - downloading Tinder, making new friends, buying new clothes, whatever these key aspects of my life have been - would be a disservice to how special it all had been. I didnt want their absence to be filled, but felt. I wanted my life to be what it is, rather than constantly fixed on what it has or could be. I wanted my life to just be my life. Slow, quiet, mundane; when that changes, it will change, but for the first time, I don't feel the need to make that happen. 

I've begun to crave something different, something softer. I want to walk to work, do my shift, walk home, check my phone, and see nothing on it, and be perfectly okay with that. The important thing is, I walked to and from work and finished my day. I listened to music on the way there, and I wore an outfit I felt good in. I need to be okay with the fact that a lack of attention doesn't mean anything inherently negative; sometimes it just means some much-needed time to myself. After literal decades, I don't want my life to be dedicated to others approval. I don't want my life to be a value statement, dictated by who finds my attrative, who finds me cool, who texts me back, who thinks I'm boring. I want to live my life for myself. I want my days to feel significant because I've completed another one, and not because I got flirted with or got a call from an old friend. I want to make decisions for myself and not what might make others the happiest. I want to spend the next 5 years alone if I have to, because I would rather live my life than dumb it down for the sake of bland company. I want to learn to appreciate my solitude because, for someone who is so introverted and claims to enjoy it so much, it still scares me an awful lot - the days on end that I spend by myself. I just want to be.