For most of this year, I worked through my thoughts in a private Tumblr blog. It worked like a journal, and it was hidden behind a password. For a long time, nobody had access to it.
Then, I let someone in. I love that person very much, and the things that I wrote began to show them that. For a long time, my private thoughts, ideas, and experiences were all shared with that person.
It scared me a lot at first. I decided to do it in a moment of fake bravery. Not the kind where you see a fear and stand defiantly against it. The kind where take a risk, only when you're certain you have nothing to lose. But I wanted to be understood more than I wanted to be safe. And I suppose I'm here, on the Perennial Wallflower, to do the same thing again.
That person told me that there was so much value in how I wrote. In how I looked at the world and how I looked at myself. I didn't see it. Of course I didn't see it. I thought I was just sitting in front of a keyboard and vomiting my every thought into a blank post. Even now, looking back, I think that's an accurate way to describe what I'm doing.
It might not have been pretty. It might not have been organized. It might not have been entirely coherent. But it was genuine. This will be genuine. And surely someone can find value in that.
There's this idea of an existential loneliness that exists regardless of what our social relationships look like. That there are parts of us that we never share, that there are thoughts of ours that don't translate into language well enough, that some feeling of never quite being understood by others pesters all of us. It's always rung true for me. People can get close, but they can never really get all the way there.
There's probably someone in human history that really does understand the exact way you feel and think. But we're not promised to meet that person. Life doesn't owe us that. Maybe they lived four centuries before us, or they'll be born four centuries after. Maybe they live in another hemisphere. Maybe you've walked past them on your way to work and had no idea that they were that one person in billions that would make you feel truly understood.
I think wallflowers can get lost in that type of personal, internal depth. We're aware of it and we dwell in it and most of the time, we genuinely appreciate it. But we wish it could be seen. That makes this universal loneliness worse, especially paired with a social loneliness caused by introverted personalities,frustration with shallow connections, self-doubt, and average-at-best social skills.
I guess that's why I'm writing this blog. There are many reasons. But I can't help but feel like there's someone out there that feels hopelessly misunderstood, just like most of us do. Maybe they're not born yet. Maybe they don't search out advice on the internet. Maybe I fuck up the SEO and marketing, and these words drown in the noise of the Internet, never to be seen by any but the people I share this with.
But maybe, that person is out there. Maybe they find this blog. Maybe they read these words. And maybe these words make them feel understood, at long last. It's a longshot, but I'll have given that person a gift that I've only ever come close to.
I'm still undecided on how private I'll be. I don't know which of my friends I'll share this with. I don't know how anonymous I intend to be. But, I think some context might help.
I'm 24 years old. I live in California. I'm in a long distance relationship with someone that I love very, very much. They'll be the first person to read this. I struggle with anxiety and depression, like many do. I have great dogs and great family and great friends. I come from very privileged demographics and I make my best effort to be attentive and sensitive to those that don't. I used to help soldiers find spiritual health and I have a degree in economics. I used to play music, I love jazz, and I'm captivated by what the future holds for humanity despite lacking many of the skills needed to create it. I'm professionally frustrated, I'm more knowledgeable than I am skilled, and I'm beginning this project to prove to myself that I can put hard work into a passion project.
I guess that's all you need for now.
I used to hate how cold and distant advice articles felt. I used to feel patronized by them. I used to feel annoyed when I read words from authors that had obviously never experienced what they wrote about.
I wanted advice from someone like me. I wanted to get hyped up, I wanted a next step, I wanted someone to lay down in the fucking dirt with me and keep me company. I know myself well enough to promise that you'll find all of that here. And I can promise that, whether you find what you're looking for in these words or not, you can be certain that what I write is true to myself and my own experience.
That's all for now. Thank you so much for joining me. And, I hope this helps.