If you’d ask my friends about me, some would tell you that I’m kind, gentle and in love with love. Others, I’m sure, would mention how feisty I am, and some would comment how much they respect me, but that I’m a bit “too much.”
Those whom I wronged or who didn’t “get me” might tell you that I’m a complete egotistical arsehole, a show-off and unloyal. Put these two groups in one room, make them pretend to care enough to discuss me, and you’ll get a pretty heated room with clashing opinions.
This potentially exciting scenario (that would much amuse me) brings me to the theme of my blog and the core of my being, living my truth.
Early in my childhood, I started questioning nearly everything. I wasn’t interested in causing troubles. I was only passionate and naive enough to believe that I have the right to ask questions.
When I was only twelve, the Catholic church I belonged to, kicked me out because I questioned too much and raised my opinions too loud.
In school, I spent a substantial amount of time in the Principal’s office, waiting for my parents to pick me up, only because I would ask politically incorrect questions which labeled me as disrespectful. I was a top student keen to excel in school. In grade 7 I dared to fail one of my favorite subjects, history. I questioned that the Communist regime, we lived in, would publish fact-based books, so I checked some additional resources. I was happy to put it on the table for my teacher to discuss; she was only interested in failing me. I could write a whole book about my raising questions making people uncomfortable, where the only intention I had was to get answers and move on. The society’s aim, however, is opposed to free and outspoken thinking.
Has this all been fun for me? In a way, yes. My gut was my leading force at that age and combined with my youth, provided a solid foundation of a rebel.
Have I suffered because of my attitude? Deeply. Think about it, what child wants to become a rebel? I chose not to show my pain, though. I felt that the truth I wanted to keep discussing throughout my life, was more important to me than my feeling as an outcast.
Back to our heated room, put you and me in there and we have a clash of opinions. So, which truth am I so keen to prove?
1. There is nothing I wish to prove; there is no truth that can be measured.
2. I’m feeling good when I speak my truth and how I think about this world.
3. I am determined to live my life on my terms, based on my value system.
4. I am questioning the society we created, as I see many out-dated systems, such as schooling, careers, religions.
5. If you look around, our society is a reflection of much greed, ego, and ignorance, which is the basis of my desire to question it in the first place.
Reading this, one might presume that we all feel good when we honestly share our opinions. But do we genuinely speak our mind?
Most people don’t speak their truth. Our society instilled politeness as an accepted form of lies, to fit in. Seriously, how often do you nod your head at the dinner table at something your whole body screams against, just to be liked?
Most people don’t even know what their truth is. Some might vaguely remember what they believe in, and others might think they believe in something, where in reality all they do is live out a copy/paste opinions of their parents, which is nothing different to a borrowed bag of shit belonging to someone else, you’re just too used to carry it around.
How many investment bankers dream secretly to have had more guts and go for a career as a sports teacher? How many lawyers wish they’ve followed their dreams and become a musician? When was the last time you’ve spoken up in a place where it would make a difference, yet you knew it would make those around uncomfortable? How many times have you passed next to a homeless person, with an ache in your heart, but you kept composed, next to your boss to appear professional, rushing to a business meeting, which by the way you find utterly dull, yet you’re attending week after week, dreaming about Friday 5 pm? When was the last time you told your husband that you’re faking orgasms to get it over, instead of opening doors to true intimacy to work things out? When was the last time you’ve encouraged your children to become whatever they want instead of thinking of grades or becoming super rich?
Who are you behind all those polite and conforming masks? What happened to the truth? And how is your heart feeling about this all?