It wouldn’t surprise me if I’d written a post with this title before. Sat on the floor, half on my yoga mat, candle flickering beside me. Just did a 20 minute bedtime practice. I feel so calm. I had a very exciting weekend. I laughed so much. I danced, I hardly got any sleep, I flirted, I did a medical course (Emergency First Response) and though I took what I was learning very seriously, I laughed a lot – made a new proper friend (I think!)
The guy I flirted with – the first time I met him there was a spark. And it seems its mutual, though nothing happened. He doesn’t live in the same country. But really this post isn’t about him. I’ve just been thinking about honesty, and how, now, for the first time ever, I feel honest. To myself, to others. When I’m feeling shit, I don’t always talk about it straight away, but even when the clouds started clearing I had to tell me close friends how awful it had been, and that I knew I could reach out, but I didn’t want to. Other times, I do want to, and now, I do. Even though it’s hard. But it helps.
The words I say, at work, in my personal life – I’m honest. The way I act, the way I try to live by my beliefs, they are honest. Including knowing my hypocrisies. I’m not saying being honest makes me infallible. When I say something I mean it. So many other people say things when they are drunk. Did they mean it? No? Yes? But now shying away from it, because they are scared? Embarrassed? Sobriety not only has made me see the importance of being honest, but the benefits of it. If I am me, and me, generally is okay, and people don’t like that? There is nothing more I can, or more importantly, want to do to make them change that view. If I say what I think, what I feel, and I get rejected, sure it hurts – fuck it can hurt. But, hmmm, actually sometimes I do hold back. And 100% that is the right thing to do.. but in almost all (if not all) these situations, I tell my friends what I’m feeling, or family.
I always thought I was honest, but I lied to myself, to my friends. The pain I felt, the pain I caused myself. And trying to escape all the time. And at it’s worst I really was living a double life. Looking back, and I know I’ve written this, I can see how hurt my friends were – because, I had been keeping things from them. Of course I did. But to put myself in their position, I would feel sad, and probably a little betrayed too. But the important friendships have been rebuilt.
This post isn’t at all what I wanted it to be. I can’t quite seem to articulate what I feel should be said in once, perhaps two simple sentences about honesty. How precious it is. That if you live by it, nothing else matters. You can be questioned and told you are wrong, but if you believe in what you are saying there is nothing more you can do. Nothing more.
I suppose in some ways I have been pretty true to me. I thought about trying to be someone else a few times in my life, but it never lasted long. I was always the weirdo. I still get called weird all the time. I know I am. It’s okay. When I look at societies norm, I don’t want to be that person. There is nothing wrong with it, but that’s not me. Yet, at the same time – if I say I’m weird, people rush, supposedly to my defence, saying ‘no one is normal…’ But, there are societal norms. Some people are more ‘normal’ than others. And many of the things I enjoy most are things that make me sound weird. So what. Then people compliment me for being weird. It’s all very confusing.. so really, as long as I’m honest with how I want to be, and act in good faith (which I always try to) and smile a lot – I do that too – weird, not weird, cool, not cool – all of that is other people’s shit, not mine.