Are you the new person drawn toward me?
To begin with, take warning, I am surely far different from what you suppose;
Do you suppose you will find in me your ideal?
Do you think it so easy to have me become your lover?
Do you think the friendship of me would be unalloy’d satisfaction?
Do you think I am trusty and faithful?
Do you see no further than this façade, this smooth and tolerant manner of me?
Do you suppose yourself advancing on real ground toward a real heroic man?
Have you no thought, O dreamer, that it may be all maya, illusion?

—Walt Whitman, "Are You the New Person Drawn Toward Me?"

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Being the oldest of a bunch, raised by a short-tempered, struggling middle-class pair, I always tried to make sense of my place in this world. Longing for affirmation, I tried to be the best at my work. Winning competitions, taking a group lead, and always being in the top five of the class. Yet whenever I came home, no one ever talked about what I did.

I was expected to do so without even being told to do so.

Amid my frustration, I curled myself in. Choose to be reclusive. Drowned myself in my own trajectory and sense of improvement. Always knew what I wanted to do, what I wanted to have, and what will and how I achieve and afford those. And it wasn’t smooth sailing either. I have my episodes and depression. It gets ugly, exacerbated by the kind of people I choose to meet. I make my own tragedies, and the memory of said tragedies lingers within all my regrets and planning. Hence, I decided to not expect anything from people.

I distanced myself from the crowd.

Correction: I grew up being the nomad I am and chose not to be invested in my surroundings. I became a reliable and self-aware observer, with no one to put my social cushion to land whenever I fall because I don’t need to attach to anyone. Virtually, I have no one. I don’t put my confidence in people because people I’ve met repeatedly broke me, and funnily, they can almost always justify themselves. It’s like being kept in the dark, constantly guessing what other’s intentions are. Well then, I decided not going to do it anymore.

Then, I kept a facade. Even though I am trying my hardest to be ethically authentic, there is no way I will impress anyone with my bare vulnerability. I kept a mask not because I wanted to tell myself certain things or be perceived as such. I kept an act because I chose to not show my vulnerability and kept my distance from the crowd.

It’s such a complicated thing, personality disorder.

But people—whenever I tried to solve my loneliness—always perceived certain things about me. They chose assumptions over confirmations, stripped me of my complications, and put me in an archetype.

I hate being put in a box.

I tried to refrain from assuming things; I don’t believe and care about what people want unless they tell me. And some said to me that I was insensitive for doing so. Yet, to be honest, I sensed it. But I decided not to act on anything until I got my confirmation. I quickly judged after I assessed what I needed to confirm. Then, based on what I confirmed, I decided what angle I should sit at regarding matters. Hence, I am judgemental, but I try not to assume.

This is an ideal outlook on life and a way to survive.

Yet, people perceived me as such and such. Although they are not wrong about some things, most of the perception they built on me is an echo, an amplification of stuff they thought was me. They project the most ideal version of me and expect me to follow their expectation. I stood my ground, and they ended up heartbroken, seeing their perfect perception crumble before their very eyes. Amidst disappointment from doing such a thing themselves, they threw the blame at me. But they have no idea how much I spent to understand and not to blame myself constantly. I am tired of being vilified, yet I feel like I have been continually doing vile things because of what they project onto me.

Out of my frustration, I lost my hard-earned gentleness. While wallowing in my constant regret, I could only say, “I am surely far different from what you suppose,” and hope they also heal.