The bitter truth is we are shaped and manipulated into who we are today by our surroundings – more specifically – the people around us. The way we dress, our sense of humor, our bitter-sweet attitude and our perfect imperfections are not traits we were born with.
We become who we are because we are inspired by somebody else. What made you interested in politics? Nothing but the politicians. What made you believe in God? Somebody told you his story. Why are you wallowing in the abyss of and depression? Somebody broke you. People break people. The people we trust, love, loathe, they are the creators behind our insanity. Inevitably, we are also the cause of somebody else’s change. Does the change have to be bad? Not at all. I would like to think my way with words and appreciation and respect for the opposite sex all came from my mother, who raise me correctly in the best way she could. For that I will be forever grateful.
On the other hand, I know who have made me broken like I am today; the girl I fell for at the age of thirteen who ripped me to shreds for years and years; my father who left my mother, making her depressed like she is today; the bullies who made fun of my insecurities. Am I mad that I ended up this way? A little, I would give anything to tell people I am happy and actually mean it. But would I have it any other way? Not at all. Falling in love taught me a lot about myself, I know I will love that girl till the day I die – sometimes you need to love to learn how to hurt. As for my father, I still love him, despite his lack of parenting skills I believe if he didn’t leave when he did, things could’ve got even worse. The bullies at school are just a way of growing up, you learn how to take care of yourself and learn you are better off when you don’t let feeble mockery hurt you.
Yes I am broken. We are all broken. In a fucked up world the people around us are our enemies and saviors at the same time, but when we lie on our death beds, withered and scarred, we can be happy in the knowledge that we are who we are because of the influence of hundreds people in our lifetime – with ourselves influencing the personalities of the same people. It’s beautiful and terrifying. An annoyance but necessity. Maybe we all need to suffer with mental health to learn who truly meant the most to us.
I will leave you with this: be careful the next time you fall in love, you will forever carry a piece of them within yourself; they will forever carry a piece of you within themselves, destined to be intertwined till the day you die, no matter what happens.