breaking free

When we were small, safety meant pleasing our parents to avoid abandonment. Since we were dependent on them for survival, we were frightened of even the slightest risk of rejection. To not create conflicts, we learned to silence our anger, frustration, and minimise our needs.

When we were teenagers, belonging meant adapting ourselves to the environment. We did everything we could to be accepted, to not be bullied, teased, or rejected by the group. From a tender age, we learned the horror of being ostracised.

Entering adulthood, we searched for a sense of belonging in the world and would go at length to build a socially- approved version of ourselves. We are not even aware of how many cultural 'shoulds' we have taken in, and how much we might have invested on a path that is not ours: the corporate job, the seemingly glamorous relationship, a well-endorsed 'extraverted' personality, following what our siblings and peers do to be loved, winning through conventional success and recognition. A fish can't see the water because it's in it. We cannot see the values we have internalised because they so engulf us.

Our facade started as a mean to survive in this world when we were young and vulnerable, but somehow it overstayed its time and became the only thing we know. While the conflict between our true self and false self is not exclusive to emotionally intense people, reclaiming authenticity is often a hard path for the natural misfits.

Intensity is a brain difference— an innate trait that makes one different from the normative way of functioning. Without the right understanding and support, having an operating system that is 'out of sync' can bring many early experiences of shame. Not all of us are fortunate enough to have family that understand and respect neurodiversity. If our parents, teachers or peers were impatient or critical towards our idiosyncrasies, we naturally assume that we are in the wrong. We believed that not fitting in meant there was something defective about us. So what did we do?

We learned, painstakingly, with all our energy, to drown our inner voice so that we could fit in.

Being haunted by the threat of being ostracised, we spend our whole life constructing a facade that would allow us to 'pass' normalcy.

We became hyper-vigilant and cautious, picking up the smallest negative social clues so that we could edit our behaviours accordingly.

Since our vibrancy and excitements were met with nothing but blind stares or puzzlement, we realised sharing made us lonelier than not sharing.

The minute our achievement stood out, it got chopped down; so we learned never to reach high.

Opportunities became threats, so we self- sabotage before anyone could destroy us.

We thought we could protect ourselves by playing small, but stifling our soul comes with huge costs:

The constant inner conflicts;

Feeling confused about our identities and desires;

Not being able to take in joy and pleasure;

Unable to continue on our chosen path;

Waking up every day depressed and unmotivated;

Doubting our relationships and getting increasingly intolerant of others;

Existential guilt for we are not living life to its fullest;

Fearing we are letting our life slips through without living it.

We are depressed because we have denied our soul's truths.

We feel empty and numb because our soul has gone into hiding.

We are like wild animals trying to domesticate ourselves, trading our natural exuberance for the crowd's approval.

Leaving the familiar ground of the identity we have invested in is never an easy task, but a wake-up call will inevitably come. Sometimes, life very 'helpfully' sends us a crisis that forces us to face our truths. Then, we realise that it is not enough to exist as a function of someone else's— spouse, parents, friends, society- projections and wishes, as life is too short for any more day of internal deadness. When a turning point comes, we first get plunged into an existential crisis.

Outside of psychology, existential philosophers are amongst the most aware of the value of nonconformity.  Many existentialists use terms such as 'crowd', 'horde' (Scheler) or the 'masses' (José Ortega y Gasset), 'herd moralities' (Nietzche) to describe the way of living in which one 'does what others do'. Kierkegaard said that angst and existential despair go together with an inherited or borrowed world-view (often of a collective nature). Nietzsche suggested that the so-called 'Death of God' – the loss of shared faith in religion and traditional morality – created a more widespread existential crisis for the philosophically aware.

Walking away from the crowd comes with a price; the philosophers hold that anxiety is the price we pay for freedom.  Being the outsider, the isolated ones see through the phonies. Not being able to define oneself with an external definition (a wife, a son, a church-goer, a company man) challenges them to become their own person.   Inevitably, we feel the weight of our existential decision— have the freedom to choose where (and how) we stand also means we are responsible for the results of our actions. 

However difficult,  standing on our own two feet despite the absence of social proof is the only 'true solution' to becoming free.  As Søren Kierkegaard affirmed, reliance on social roles and doctrine prevent the person form 'real action'. The only true freedom comes with being able to bear the heavy responsibility of choosing our own, own beliefs, values and decisions. 

“The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.” 

― Henry David Thoreau, Walden

THIS WEEK’S EXPERIMENT: PAST, PRESENT AND FUTURE SELF-PORTRAIT

The idea of creating a self-portrait might seem daunting at first, but please remember, these activities are not about the outcome, but the process of playing and creating. It is not necessary to be skilful in art. You could use stick figures, lines, shapes and symbols in any way you like. You can also create collages out of images you find online or in magazines.

In this experiment, I invite you to create three pieces of self-portraits, respectively representing your past, present and future.

The first piece of self-portrait:

Create this based on how you were in the past. You may want to base this on one specific memory or create an abstract, global reflection. If you have a traumatic past, you can be about the sad child in you.

The second piece of self-portrait:

Represent who you are today. Be as honest as possible about your current perception of yourself.

The last piece of self-portrait:

Portray who you wish to be in the future. Step outside yourself as much as possible, and allow your imagination to flow. Imagine if you could do anything, imagine if you could transform all your negative experiences.

Finally:

Put the three images together. Reflect on your growth and transformation. How did you turn bad experiences into learning? What could be harnessed?

Now that you have created an image for your future self, you can work towards manifesting the changes you want to see.