My parents gave me 2 names, ironically speaking I was used to use one name for years, the first one. The second one used everytime they are mad or I did something stupid, however, since the booming world of internet, social media came up, I always used my second name (which by the name, shown in my header page).
I feel better everytime my second name was called, pronounced and look after. Maybe because the reason behind. And funny tho, it was only almost 9 years ago when a stranger turned sister to me called me “Clar”. It was music to my ears, since then I decided to be called by my second name, Clarissa.
When I changed the signature of my office mail, one employee recognized it, “I didn’t know Clarissa is your prefered name, I just assumed you wanted to be called by the first name. Am sorry. From now on, you are Clarissa to me. We should be asking people what they want to be called and not assume.”
That hits me because indeed, it is true. No one asked me what I prefer, whether we liked it or not. We assumed. We judged. We loved every first encounter, that’s why, first impression is always important. But sadly to say, it wouldn’t last. It is not meant to last.
Change is constant.
We change names.
Our goals changed.
Our dreams changes everytime.
Our passion can be gone.
We are bound to die.
We don’t live once, we die once. Living is every day. Surviving is every minute.
So, uncovering the mask is so vital. Would you want people to know who you really are?
Just like my name, for years, I got used to be called by my first name but there’s a certain point in my life when I WANTED to change my name. Literally, to change both of my names and My mom was so pissed about it, she gave that name with some sort of a reason behind it. The characters of a movie played during their first date. Yeap, fathom that!
I am afraid to let people in.
I am so scared to let people come into my life.
I tend to push people away if I felt that urge of wanting to love them.
I just wanted to be alone. Left behind. Be independent.
It is so hard for me to trust.
So difficult to open up and express my feelings, worst to share it.
I choose people whom I wanted to share the emotions.
Most of the time, I kept in myself or write about it.
I have a vivid memory of my childhood and as I grew up it turned out dramatic, which causes me to just step back and put up walls behind and limit what should I be sharing.
But I am not going to deny, once I was open book and it crashes me because it was used against me. I thought it was meant to inspire but became a toxicity to most of people I knew. Then I put back the mask to cover all the emotions and never to trust again.
I was never lost.
I was never broken.
I was never in pain.
I am in the agony of searching the true trust and love that I should be feeling. Integrity is what I am looking for. Am craving for self-respect.
I am in difficult situation of uncovering the mask I forced to wear because I am so damn tired of being judge as the melancholic damsel in distress.
I don’t want to limit myself to what people see in me. I don’t want to be a limited edition.
I don’t want to be put in a box and should be acting as it is.
I am so tired of fighting my own feelings and yet so scared of judgment.
Yes, fuck judgment. Don’t be a pleaser! Yeap, I know but I am not you. I am not who you think I am.
At night, I have so many thoughts and feelings that wanted to be heard.
When my anxiety kicks in, no one knew how hard for me to handle not to aggravate it.
It was so easy to say what we should or shouldn’t be doing. We wanted to be carefree but our actions put us in a chaotic situation.
Should we uncover the mask?
Should we let people in?
If you could dissect me right now, all I want is so simple, to be found and be loved.