I have scars on my body, and there was a time when I was ashamed to show them. But my nephew showed me there was nothing to be ashamed of. So I embraced them.
Now I wear them boldly. Each scar represents a different time in my life, a different story. All my scars are me, and I am my scars. There can’t be one without the other.
What hurts me the most is that, you, who should supposedly love me unconditionally, is ashamed of my scars.
What you’ve shown me over the years is that, to you, others people’s opinions matter more than my own and my feelings. You always want me to cover them up, and always you say, “Vanhu vanozoti chii.“, which roughly translates to what will people say.
What I get from this is; there is something wrong with you, you have to hide it from the world. This, to me, hurts more than being ignored. Because, you acknowledge me and you are not happy with who I am.
This sends a lot of soul-crushing, spirit-breaking messages to a growing child. Feelings of being a failure, a mistake, of being unwanted. Perhaps, I’m not the child, the son you wanted. Perhaps I should just leave it all and let you live out your existence without me. And now I think you’re starting to see the repercussions of it now I’m older.
Which I greatly doubt, since you always here me, but never listen. To you I’m just another chink in the chain, something not to be paid attention to.
I don’t see how I stopped caring what people thought about me a long time ago, yet you are more concerned with people’s perceptions.
The saddest or fortunate thing about all of this, however you’d like to look at it, is now, the only people I trust, that I truly trust, are people miles away from me. People who have shown me more understanding than you ever have. That have shown me, there is someone out there who cares. The internet has become my family.
I listen to Metal, I may paint my nails black. I’m Goth, I have found peace where most would only see death and misery. And people may say what they want about me, but that’s them, they’re just too cowardly to approach me and talk to me and find out why.
I have come to terms with my scars, I only hope that one day you will too. Sooner rather than later, before you lose me completely….
And that’s why I feel Alone in A Crowded Room
This is written from the deepest recesses of my soul, in hopes someone will read, and reach out…