What They Think About You Doesn’t Matter, But What You Think of Them is Existentially Significant

I know what you’re thinking, but these aren’t a new set of pronouns—they are you.

As a child, it almost seemed that I had permanent glasses that filtered flaws and fostered natural beauty. Everyone was my friend, everyone wanted good for everyone, and we all shared the imagination of creating a fun world with no problems for anyone (at least that’s how I felt). After your soul rides in your body through the world a little bit, the reality that these visions of goodness aren’t shared become increasingly apparent. And your belief in good becomes heavier to hang on to.

That one classmate just won’t leave you alone.

That one girl can’t help but point out your body and plant the seed for insecurity.

That one teammate can’t help but call you gay for your excessive emotions and enjoyment of the culturally feminine.

The news can’t help but to show you how the world you’re living in is crumbling as they speak.

Nevertheless, you fought. You tried to see that these people may have had bad intentions, but they were also recipients of the traumas of their youth–traumas that shouldn’t have happened–let alone that early. The bullied and insecure can turn bully. The boy who’s dad is insecure in his manhood invokes his fears in his kid who then uses these fears to police others so he can fit with his father. The cycle, you see it, and in seeing it, you hold the belief that, they, although troubled, inherently desire good.

But then….then….then

Something happens to you. Or maybe a lot of somethings happen to you. Or maybe even a lot of somethings happened but you were never ready to accept those somethings. When these somethings overflow from the crevices of the soul and flood the spirit into chaos, the world becomes different, you become different, everyone else becomes different—change, but the scary, stomach tightening, rib-shaking kind.

All the sudden, you become someone you never thought you could. All the sudden, the goodness, the kindness, they feel sucked out of you, and any hint of them smells and feels like death, like pain, like something you need to protect yourself from. You begin to think that maybe all of those bad people weren’t just products of bad situations, they were actually ahead of the game–they saw the world for what it is—a haunted house where you either scare or get scared, jump first or get jumped at, never trust or always hurt.

It’s in this moment that you become a child of trauma, or rather, and adult of child trauma, or maybe an adult child who’s done their best to protect themself from more hurt.

They and them becomes I and you. They and them was always I and you. What you think of them is procured from what you think of you, and what you think of you is in relation to what you think of them. When you are traumatized, you don’t trust anyone and slowly, you begin to stop trusting yourself.

I’ve felt it. I still do sometimes. But the world doesn’t have to be so scary and so evil. People don’t have to be so scary and so evil. I’m learning that when I assume everyone is looking for self gain, secretly judging, trying to use others, and have no regard for the wholistic well being I, 1. become prideful asl and 2. take on the very despicable traits I believe others have.

So here’s my point. While it is true that maybe everyone won’t act the kindest in every situation, it is also true that they wont act evil in every situation either. And we choose.

We choose to either see people as inherently self-serving and ignore our innate desires to love and be loved, or we can take a leap–throw some hope out there–give the benefit of the doubt knowing it’s better to believe in good and get screwed a few times than to live in the hardened depths of your soul where no good or bad could ever touch you.

My friend, I will tell you, that place is cold. That place feels locked. That place is hell. And that is not to say don’t try, because at the end of the day, the universe will stand as is and we will learn only by our own volition. But if you end up there and feel like the guise of a knights armor turned into a cell you cannot break out of, then these words are for you.

It’s okay to hurt.

It’s okay to love.

It’s okay to experience the unknown.

It’s okay to think all of this is bullshit.

It’s okay.

To my fellow sojourners in this process, whether we like it or not, they are you, you are I, and I am them. Just take one step for yourself, you’ll see it.