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Self Discovery: Further Revelation

I often tell people I’m antisocial. That’s partially true. But the reasoning behind that is what really encapsulates me. See when I do go out, I tend to either be the life of the party or directly engage in that said life. Which is a contradiction of sorts. Of course one doesn’t have be social OR antisocial, they can be a bit of both, but like I said the pith of this situation is its explanation.

I like to be respected. Its how I get my jollies. Being liked is dope, being honored or revered is a future goal, but as far as I’m concerned, the meal ticket is respect. I have a formidable brain. That brain is interested in language and certain aspects of the liberal studies and business. Being trained in science, I have developed a proclivity for empirical evidence, that is what I can prove through experimentation and facts. Being an avid reader, I have a middle-advanced command on the English language. But all of this means nothing when confronted by a spontaneous social gathering. Be it niggas in the club, a school gathering, or simply a get together. I hate having to come in and feel the need to “prove” myself to these strangers.

Well who said anything about needing to prove one’s self? I can answer this a variety of ways. I’ll use two. Number one. You’re always proving yourself. Consciously or subconsciously. I have just been hardwired to have a hyperconscious understand of me and my surroundings. This is also known as being neurotic. When a woman gets to know you, you are essentially proving your worth to her and vice versa. When you take a test you are proving your knowledge to your instructor. That’s how us humans evaluate ourselves. Now in something as trivial as a social gathering, there are those adept social butterflies who are oblivious to this test or simply don’t care. They can come into a party and simply have fun.

Then there’s me. My insecurities have always lain in how I’m being perceived. In my teen years I didn’t dress nice, I was skinny, and my hair unkept. I’ve carried those snickers and uncontained insensitivity into my 20s. I am always aware of who’s looking at me because I trained myself to know when I was being laughed at. Plus there’s a general protocol around strangers, a sort of “sizing” up, which generally revolves around an intense scrutiny which can be paradoxically summed up as “I don’t give a fuck about this nigga”. Usually this statement of discard is after a look at clothes, attractiveness, hygiene, demeanor… Basically is this person a threat to me. Women do it all the time. A group of girls spots another group of girls and there’s the catty remarks that ensue. “Who do those bitches think they are?” “Omg why the hell is she wearing that”.

See I thrived in that culture. I was a predator when it came to criticism. I would look a nigga up and down and diminish him to ruins. My insecurity made sure I overcompensated.

Now. In circles that know me, I don’t need to go through that. I get respect based off them knowing me or what I’m capable of. They already know I’m intelligent, girls have decided whether I’m attractive, or that I dress nice. Those are safe zones from any further scrutiny. However, in random events I must go through it over and over again. I have to get over this phobia of being judged and somehow deemed unworthy and not respected. A true fear of meeting a woman and having a replay of my sophomore year in high school. I meet the beautiful, popular, super well dressed girl she looks me up and down and laughs. That crushed me. Since then, I’ve never allowed myself to be comfortable with making myself vulnerable and talking to new girls or making new friends.

Unless, of course, I’m drunk.

Respect. I thrive off of it. It keeps me happy. It keeps me relevant. It keeps people telling me that I’m something special. Or so my still developing self believes. But I’m realizing I have very little to do with my own respect. I was blessed to have an intimidating stature, a sharp mind, and an ability to speak confidently to anyone. Thus this reliance on antisociality to protect me from hurt is simply a waste of God given blessings.

(Disclaimer: I’m also antisocial because I truly think people are stupid. But post in more so looking at why I’m not a big “hey let’s go out and meet new people” all the time kinda guy)

I am confident. I am arrogant. However, those traits have limitations. And the major limitation is gestation period. How long have I known the people in the environment before I start allowing myself to be me without fear of ridicule? How long will I remain introverted because of my fear of vulnerability? Proving myself to people consciously is not my strong point. But my impatience and fear makes me become conscious thus beleaguering my natural ability to do it.

Shits complex. But that’s why I have a blog. To make plain what I go through.

Maybe some of you can relate.

FKJR

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