Haven’t we all had a moment in our life when we did something that didn’t feel like it was really like us? Either as a break from something that didn’t work for us or maybe even because someone else made us feel we had to?
A big part of my life was like that. Doing things that didn’t make me feel like it was me, in fact it felt a lot like everything I did took me further away from who I really am and at some point, it was difficult to remember who that person – who I was.
It wasn’t just a simple matter of remembering who I was, though. It is a journey.
When I was diagnosed, I got permission to be me, or at least, that was how it felt. I had tried to fit into something that didn’t have my shape, like they say, a forcing a square through a circular gap. It breaks. I don’t know who said it first, but every time I hear someone say it, it describes how I felt perfectly. Being diagnosed was like someone told me it was okay to go search for a circular gap instead of breaking myself trying to fit in when I don’t.
I am still on that journey, on the path back to who I really am. Not who I was, or who I want to be, because that isn’t really me. I need to find me.
What I really wanted back then, and also in a way what I want now, is for someone to tell me who I am and what I like and what I want with my life.
Unfortunately, no one can.
Or maybe it’s more like no one should.
Because, how would anyone really know when I don’t?
Most people didn’t even know I have Asperger’s. A lot of people don’t seem like they believe it when I tell them. Then how can they know who I am?
It helps to see how others see me, sometimes.
Today, a friend called me brave.
It’s difficult for me to see it, because honestly, I feel like a coward all the time. I like that she sees me as brave, though. It makes me feel like maybe I can be brave sometimes.
People have called me many things in my life, most of them not good. I think every time I heard what they called me I thought to myself: “maybe I am a little…”
It didn’t matter what they called me, but because they often called me bad things, I thought I was a bad person for a really long time.
Someone else keeps telling me I am a good person. Every time he tells me I feel like I want to be a good person. I hope I can become a good person.
My point is, every time people called me stupid or broken or something like that, I felt like maybe they had a point. Could be they saw me more clearly than I saw myself.
Silly, right?
I mean, sometimes people do see us more clearly than we do ourselves, but that doesn’t mean we have to believe everything other people tell us. They don’t know who we are, but only how they see us.
We might not know who we are either, but we are the ones who have the greatest chances of finding out. We are the ones who can find out. It can really be very daunting to begin our journey of self-discovery after we get our diagnosis, or even before I guess, but it is worth it all.
To me, it has been heart-breaking and beautiful to start this process. It’s not easy to attempt to see ourselves as we truly are and most annoying at all to me – I am not the person I would like to be.
I don’t like myself less because of it, but I had to let go of certain dreams and wishes about my life and future, not because I didn’t want it – I did and still do – but because in all honesty I just wouldn’t enjoy it as much as I think I would.
So, how do we start to find our way back to who we really are?
To me, the first step was accepting that I don’t know what I’ll discover and that’s okay.
I might not be very cool or chic, I might not enjoy sitting with a group of friends in a bar drinking, I might not enjoy going to amusement parks or other places with lots of people even though I wanted to like those things. I don’t like going to clubs with loud music, expensive drinks and sweaty people everywhere, but I wanted to be like that when I was younger.
I wanted to enjoy it, I really did. I like dancing, but not like that. I enjoy dancing to slow jazz, I enjoy a good audio book while cooking, I enjoy gaming – both alone and with others.
I doubt I was ever the cool kid in school even though I would have liked to be. I was the quiet one hiding in a corner somewhere with a book, hoping no one would find me.
You might think these are simple and unimportant things, but they describe quite well what it felt like when I started trying to find myself. I had to accept that I won’t ever like measuring ingredients when I cook and that my food may not be perfect because of it. I don’t get upset when my food isn’t as good as it could be, I just enjoy cooking and enjoy the result. If it doesn’t turn out well then, I’ll just try harder next time.
That’s what it’s like to try finding yourself – if it doesn’t turn out the way you expected, try to do better next time and see what happens.
