Why do I wrap myself around high fiction, thrillers, royalty bloodlines or even romcoms? Why am I so fond of movies and books that suspends me from reality for hours?
When I was little, my parents casually watch movies of variety. The pattern was random, sometimes its Jackie Chan or Marty McFly then the next day, my dad is marathoning Star Wars or Steven Seagal. And just casually, I would sit there and watch with them not realizing that I will come to adore movie nights than most of the kids playing outside with their barbie dolls and badminton things. Maybe they thought that I will pick up another hobby once I’m older but instead I became a movie buff even more so than them.
Growing up on the introverted side of the spectrum means having wants such as being left alone on my own devices. Hence the books, movies, diaries, collection of stuffed toys and mostly I spent so much alone time with my head- overthinking, analyzing scenarios and mostly escaping from the dramas of the outside world. I learned how to read between the lines and used my imagination to make whatever I am reading look like that of the movies. I fancied being an action star with a funny humor playing alongside Tom Cruise or Dr Emmet Brown 😂.
I can never sing or dance like my classmates. I sucked more on quiz bowls, athletics and painting competitions. I am not exaggerating when I’ll tell you this- I personally think that I am the most talentless person in my batch or my country🙈. They say some just bloom late. High school went by then college and here I am- same old talentless person only more accepting this time.
I’ve accepted that I can never wow a crowd with my singing voice. I can never be a math or a science genius. I can never make someone’s jaw drop during some pagent of beauty and glitter. At 23, I’ve faced situations that managed to empty my self-esteem jar. I gave and gave enough of me just so I can attract people to give me a time of their day. I cried and hated myself to sleep because I felt that I am doing things wrong since day one.
The thing about being different with your peers is that you feel that what you love is beneath and unimportant compared to what the IT crowd loves. I managed to catch up with the flow that I oftentimes forget about my own heart. When you are so busy being another face in the mob, I think what makes you “You” dwindles to invisibility. And alas, when you had enough of pretending and bullshit, you have no choice but to reach out to the real you to seek solace only to find out why you’ve been stuck in a conundrum in the first place-spoiler alert, it is because you think you are weird.
All I can say and would want to say to my own self- please accept your weirdness. Please accept that you love differently than others. That your point of views are different from their POVs. That your feelings toward a certain object would sometimes contrast or go deeper than the majority. Stop defending your quirks. Stop hiding your curiosity. You want to get the bottom of this? Ask. Overthink. Twist it like a pup twist the shoelaces. Do.Your.Thing
Dear Inja, let me write us a letter. I want you to do your thing. You’ve barricaded your inner self from going outside. Its like you forbid it just like Elsa forbids her ice. Don’t let it froze your wits. You may think you’re like Elsa but you are as jumpy and happy as Anna. Don’t trap your quirky soul in a prison cell where no eyes can see it, not even your own. If you love to lazy bum and watch movies- go. Fangirl about the latest Thrones episode. Fangirl about how that fictional swoon worthy cancer patient guy loves his girl. Fangirl about picturesque moments and places you want to shoot with your own camera on your own angle of choice. Join forums and never fear that your thoughts are insignificant. Talent or no talent, we will back you up. You are your own person. We love you despite all you ever do is read, eat, watch tv shows, lounge or fart. If no man ever sees what a jem you are, so be it. You are a jem that is self polishing. Back when you are little, you tried to improve yourself a lot. You tried- you gave up – then tried again. Fast forward to many years later, you are still trying. I know, because I’ve been there too. I felt it all too. I am as confused and as akward as you. I am you. I am significant. I am weird. I dream a lot of dreams. I have galaxies up inside my head. Again I am you. Deal with it. Be cozy with it. 😏😉
Let me show you a face shall we?
Meet me. 🦄😏