Pleased to Meet Me…
When I first created my WordPress blog, I mostly just transferred my writing posts from my tumblr blog. This is one which I left behind… until now.
I was thinking earlier about something which happens to me fairly regularly with other people. I can come across as easy going, which I am to a degree, but it’s not all of me. People sometimes think it is, or at least they give the impression that they do when they try to… tell me who to be and what to do. Doing that usually introduces them to the not easy going side of me.
If we’re in a queue and you’re in a hurry but I’m not, I might suggest that you go ahead of me. However if you cut the line… good luck with that, hope it was worth it (do you want your head in a paper or plastic bag?).
Anyway, I was reminded of this post. I wonder sometimes… how would I perceive myself if I didn’t know myself and met me?
Have you ever wondered what it would be like to meet yourself.
Sometimes in life we meet people who are so similar to us that it is uncanny. It can be very exciting, like finding a long lost soul sibling. But as similar as you and this other person may be, you are still two separate individuals, and at some point the delight of all that is alike will fade, the ‘Me too’ orgy will abate, and you will become aware of all that is not alike, all that is ‘Not me’. Which is not a bad thing at all, if someone is almost identical to us it can be unsettling to our sense of self, our sense of being unique and one of a kind. We love to find things which bond us to others, but we love our differences too.
I occasionally meet myself in dreams. One time I met myself as a child, my child self was crying because she was lost, alone, and there was a monster trying to eat her. I killed the monster, took the child by the hand, and led her away to a safe and loving place. There was another time when I came face to face with a male version of myself. I don’t recall any details of that dream, but I remember waking up with a sense of great satisfaction. Sometimes the me that meets myself isn’t me. My dreaming self is someone else who meets me. That is weird, but not unusual, I vary who I am in dreams all the time, there are times when I am me, times when I am a very altered version of me, and times when I am someone else entirely. I do enjoy meeting myself, it gives me a glimpse of what I am like from the outside in, even if that glimpse comes from the inner recesses of my sleeping self.
It is nigh on impossible to see oneself from the outside in because we are so firmly rooted inside ourselves. The world is coloured by our perceptions, which includes how we perceive others perceiving us. If you have a decidedly pessimistic view of yourself, you will always assume that others do too, even if the other person tells you how wonderful you are, you will eventually convince yourself that they are mistaken, that they have projected themselves onto you and are just not seeing you for who you are. In some cases you may even go out of your way to change their opinion about you, and deliberately do something to ensure they see you as negatively as you see yourself.
I have a very beautiful friend who is convinced that she is ugly. I have no idea what she sees when she looks in the mirror, but from what she has said, it is not what everyone else sees when they look at her. It doesn’t matter how often she is told that she is beautiful, she doesn’t register those words as anything other than people being kind and polite. She occasionally gets very annoyed at others for lying to her about her looks, and she is not averse to behaving in hurtful ways to force people to see the ugliness she feels. She is not a mean or nasty person, it pains her to behave the way she does, but she feels frustrated that people don’t see the real her, that they see what they want to see, and she wants people to know who she really is before they decide if they like her or not. If she met herself, I wonder if she would see how beautiful she is, and how that would affect her perception of herself. How would she behave with herself, would she feel compelled to behave with herself the way she does with others.
As for me, I often wonder what my interaction with myself would be like. Would I like myself, or would I be repelled, and reject myself. Would we talk for hours, or ignore each other. Would I be pleased to meet me, or wish it had never happened.
What about you, how would you feel if you had the opportunity to meet yourself?