I'd thought to avoid this QOTW
as frankly, I was worried it'd bring out my nasty side. The side that doesn't want to hear it. The deep, dark snide voice that didn't want to hear a bunch of adults whinging about how cruel the world had been to them, and how all their problems could be attributed to how a bunch of kids weren't very nice to them when they were young. The side that secretly thinks these people bring it on themselves a bit. The side that sagaciously considers Darwin and the Law of the Jungle, and settles back in my armchair under my portrait of Thatcher for a nice cup of tea and a read of the Daily Mail. The side that has, on several occasions, declared it to be a principle that, except in certain extreme circumstances, what you make of your life is down to you, that we live in an increasingly whiny, self-aggrandising and self-entitled culture where no-one takes responsibility for their own actions; it's always the fault of their parents, childhood bullies, teachers, neighbour's hamster, etc.

I wonder, though.

I didn't get on with my mum. I'm not going to start rattling on about it here - suffice to say, it wasn't good, and went a bit beyond the normal spectrum of poor familial relations. Luckily, I have a wonderful dad, which I've always felt went a way towards cancelling it out. Anyway, for as long as I can remember I've had a tendency to blindly believe that if someone doesn't like me, it's my fault. (See first paragraph.)
Cos I was told, see.

Looking at my life in the abstract, it sounds pretty good. I've had lots of friends - always have - am well-educated, never been picked on, and apart from the fact that I have No Career and No Prospect Of One In This Stupid City, I'm quite happy.

The problem is this. I feel that I, er, have no personality. Or rather, I have too many, and none of them are genuine. I'm completely different things to different people, to the extent that friends of mine who've met each other have been astonished at each other's accounts of me. A friend once described me as a social butterfly, which sounds flattering until you realise what a butterfly actually does. It fannies around, looking pretty, tra-la-la, and always keeping things very much on the surface. Then it fucks off to do the same thing on another tree. It can't stay in one place, and it's pretty much useless.

So you see, having gathered that the thing to do was to ensure people liked me by making myself appealling to them, I've bent so far out of my own shape that all I can do is be reflective of what I think the other person wants. And it's not as if it's a facade - there is no underneath. I saw an episode of Star Trek once (don't you judge me; it was on at tea-time) where there was an alien thing called an Empathic Metamorph that could completely alter itself to fit the requirements of its partner. It was very familiar.

Ach. It's not like this is crippling me or destroying my life, and as such doesn't compare with many of the tales that have obviously deeply affected folk on here. But it does bother me, sometimes.
(jennymnemonic, Wed 20 May 2009, 20:59, 5 replies)

All things to all people?
Welcome to the club.
( girlinthehole, Wed 20 May 2009, 21:10, closed)

Try it.
Getting back to the real you is well worth the effort. Once you go there you will be so much happier and it's something that is "ultimately sustainable." Just because you always felt that the bad things happening were your fault, doesn't necessarily make it so. You may find that your Mum treated everyone like shit, even though you didn't know it at the time, so you weren't the only one suffering from her ire. Best of luck with revealing the real you, I am sure that all of your friends will like what they see.
(Woofie, Wed 20 May 2009, 21:29, closed)

Are you..
.. me?
(Freakmandu, Wed 20 May 2009, 21:32, closed)

I, too, was like you.
Unfortunately, when I eventually found the real me, it turned out I didn't like myself very much.

Still, was worth the effort.

No, it wasn't - you hate yourself.

Shut up. You don't know what you're talking about.

No, you shut up.

Fatty.

Arsehole.

What were we talking about again?
( argyleblanket The man on the roof works for me, Wed 20 May 2009, 22:45, closed)

Thanks for sharing this.
As we grow, we change, and when we change, we want to try new things - be it new clothes, new music, or even a new personality.

I spent my late teenaged years with the realisation that I didn't know what sort of person I was, but once I got to Uni, I ventured outside my familiar 'turf', getting to know myself in the process.

I'd recommend you set aside some time for yourself where you do nothing but try and figure yourself out. Think about what you like doing, what makes you the way you are (I found that this helped me), etc.

But maybe it's the quirks that make you what you are. Try and learn to be comfortable with them (and yes, this is easier said than done). Welcome to b3ta!
( mistaspakkaman and the inedible shifting caterpillars, Thu 21 May 2009, 0:38, closed)