That need of belongingness… how far am I willing to go to meet this?
I’m already 21. I’m guessing I know myself better than anybody else. It’s just that sometimes, my perception of things becomes clouded because of my weaknesses… convincing myself to believe things whether true or not, trying to meet this certain expectation without much preparation, letting my emotions prevail over things… hell there are a thousands more. Nevertheless, I know that when I pause for a moment and actually ponder about me and my life, there is one thing that is clear to me: I try, with the best of me, to be true to myself and to others. If I had to choose a motto that should guide me to the ‘fullness’ of life, it’d be this.
The things I’ve gone through in the past and our current situation in life molded me to who I am today. And apparently, my mother does not like that bit-who I am today. For a briefer, I’m a delinquent. I have a bad sense of prioritizing. I have vices. I am very active in extra-curricular matters. I have no sense of time and budget management. My vocabulary is filled with words categorized under profanity. I’m half bourgeouis and half proletariat in image. I’m slightly unconventional. And I am obese. But, I know I am kind,I know that I do not judge right away, and I know that I care.
But, just as many other have asked a thousand times, will I change myself just to please people?
This is basically the context of this post. I remember mentioning to my mother that I wanted a boyfriend like my old classmates’ boyfriends. They’re from top schools, good-looking, and rich. I remember asking her why guys like them won’t approach me romantically and I remember her answering, because your school doesn’t have those. It was just a passing story then.
Until an occasion came and I was tasked to make a tarpaulin design for that event. Yes, I was given enough time. And no, I wasn’t able to give it when they needed it on Sunday, causing the canceling of the printing. Recalling what I’ve done the past week, I was busy. Well, I find it hard to think of different things at the same time, so I basically divide my time into big chunks of matters.
Monday: SPCM107 issues, THEA109 class, electoral debate.
Tuesday: Exam in PHLO171, PHLO171 class, CAS Miting de Avance, USC Miting de Avance
Wednesday: SPCM103 class, SPCM107 class, THEA115 class
Thursday: Meet someone in Manila, prepare case presentation for SPCM107
Friday: SPCM107 class, Bonifacio and the Freakshow, meet with FF and alumnus Karl
Saturday: line reading and rehearsal for scene study on Monday
Sunday: Whole day rehearsal
And making publicity materials takes me long hours, because I need to conceptualize, and mix and match if everything would turn out fine, oh! And the hallucinating laptop, yes. My laptop is on the verge of self-destruction.
Anyway… As a sermon, reprimanding me, my mother said that no wonder no guy you’d want would ever go near you. You act like a barbarian. So expect barbarians to approach you, not those smart, good-looking, rich men. And you’re not strong [pertaining to an FB status I posted about a guy that fooled me and that basically meant: “who are you anyway”], you’re arrogant. Think about your actions… Well, these weren’t the exact words since they were spoken in Tagalog but that’s how she meant it.
And so I post this, as a journal entry. For reflection, perhaps. The ultimate question arose: will I change myself just so men would want me?
Image? Ha. I know so much about it, I’ve been studying it for years. I know that the ultimate tool used for this is manipulation. I know I use that sometimes. But… do I stop swearing? Do I push myself to look good? Do I act with “class” so these men would like me?
I know the world is cruel that it makes people succumb to its mundanity. But, what I’m feeling right now is this: I do these things for a reason. I swear because that’s me. The profane words I use help me communicate my message and feelings to others. I try to lose weight for health reasons, not for anything else. Sometimes, I act with class, sometimes, I don’t. But basically, I am tacky. If that’s what they want to call it. Because I believe that the elite does a lot of things for show. I believe that the elite and bourgeouis does a lot of things only for their abundance. They stay on top because they do not want to experience ‘pain’ and have the means to remain on top.
I’m not saying that all the people who believe this are tacky. But some people think that people who are not for the elite are. I’m saying that in deeds, my mother perceives me as someone who is tacky, basically of low culture. And don’t get me started with binary oppositions. But anyway.
If to get a smart, good-looking, rich man means me retracting my view on the bourgeouis and trying to belong to that group … then, no. I guess I’d be fine with dating men from ‘my sort of class.’ Someone willing to go beyond the mundane, especially that of the bourgeouis and elite. Someone willing to go not only high up but also down low. Someone who would understand the meaning and feeling of not having the means to eat a meal a day. Someone who would understand the words coming out of my mouth for their meaning, not their form. Someone who’s not afraid to question the usual. Someone who is brave enough to face the truth.
Ideal? I guess. But I’m a partial hedonist. I believe that being true to the self and to others is one of the things that will help me become truly, ultimately happy.