Person #1

resembles that girl from high school familiar to all of us- the one who seemed to us in our younger years that she had the eyes of the world on her. She was cool, reserved, collected, drop-dead gorgeous, (which we liked to say comfortingly to each other was all due to her general lack of personality). Didn’t matter what we told ourselves though. The truth was that every guy probably wanted her and most girls wanted to be her. Myself included but I would’ve taken that secret to my grave at 16.

And though I’ve grown out of that for the most part, I sometimes wonder if I really have. Sometimes it feels like the only thing that’s changed is how hard I actively try to be that girl (she writes while petting her unshaven legs and wiping baby spit up off her lap with a sandwich). Yeah I’ll admit it. I still have the green eyes for the modern versions of that girl that I see on my feed everyday. You’re probably picturing the influencer moms with fat lips and boob jobs. That’s not who I’m referencing. I’m referencing the women who seem like an elevated, more confident version of myself. These are women I think are who think like me, have similar interests, personality types, and senses of humor. But for some reason, everything they share, say, and do seems to receive extraordinary amounts of validation from the world. While everything I share, say, and do seems to fall on empty ears. When I shout something, the echoes tell me just how empty the auditorium really is. So yeah, when I think about the kind of person I want to be, this cool, beloved women comes to mind sometimes, allluring me to go searching for more validation like the kind she gets so effortlessly. This type of validation would hopefully put to rest all the voices in my head that say I’m not talented, capable, pretty, good, and loved. I stumble into this subconscious line of reasoning like I like stumble into my daily cup of coffee (half creamer). Didn’t I say just yesterday I was gonna cut back on this?Then I hear the call of the second person.

Person #2

doesn’t have a clear identity, but all I know is they are rather opposite to the first gal I just described. I can’t visualize their physical appearance, the way they talk, or how they carry themselves. All I know is their general shape like a mold and all the people who fit it. Examples include the activists, leaders, comedians, and artists who stand up for what matters and what’s important. MLK Jr., Malala, Rosa Parks, Harriet Tubman, Muhammad Ali, Nelson Mandela, John Stewart. As a matter of fact, they don’t just fit the shape. They make the shape.

Especially now, I see people who fit the shape everyday all the time. With every new crisis and human rights issue that comes into the spotlight, I’m amazed how many normal people like me spend so much of their energy embodying in their own way this 2nd person I want to be. Opposite to the first girl I’d idolized, these people are upsetting. Their voices carry a potent power because it speaks from a place of authenticity. Whether they are journalists, activists, poets, artists, musicians, dancers, athletes, students, comedians, or veterans, my soul shakes with envy and excitement when I see people using whatever talents they have to make the world better for everyone.

And unlike the first girl I always imagined, these people do not aim to please. They disrupt. They upset. They make it look easy as every practiced expert does. But I’m not fooled. The few times I’ve tried to be a louder, more authentic version of myself has given me a glimpse into just how hard and lonely authenticity can be. Like this one time I decided to post a picture of myself in a bathing suit for the first time, my mom chewed me out for it and I stared at my post for a month, filled with shame, hoping my 2 centimeters deep cleavage hadn’t put some poor recovering porn addict into a relapse. (I’m laughing but also crying at this memory). My point with this trivial example is that if my mom’s reaction to something so minor could leave me shook, I can’t imagine dealing with the wrath of employers, governments, and social media trolls that real change fighters deal with.

Person #2 deals with alienation and ostracization regularly, and more importantly is constantly allowing outside input to reframe their worldview. I know this seems counterintuitive since we assume somebody like Nelson Mandela could only endure what they did by having an unwavering belief. So let me elaborate what I mean.

Person #1 doesn’t know how to handle alienation and survives by actively pleasing everybody everywhere. If/when they do receive opposition, they are able to turn criticism into validation of a different kind. The first example of this that comes to my mind are what I was taught growing up in the Mormon church. Opposition or “persecution” was often turned into a form of validation since the religious teachings say that the righteous are the most persecuted. Er-go, receiving opposition means you’re doing something right.

Person #2 however frequently experiences being shook, because they allow opposition and criticism to challenge their own belief systems. Person #2 cares about truth, not about being right. They are constantly asking: Is the criticism relevant? Am I misinformed? Is there another perspective here I haven’t considered before? Person #1 only takes in that which fits with their views and keeps them comfortable, and Person #2 actively seeks that which challenges their views and makes them stronger.

I think this feels threatening to a lot of people in Person #2’s life. Their ability to challenge the status quo directly challenges those around them who don’t feel ready or willing to do the same. So what do they often do? Shoot the messenger. What are their flaws? How are they hypocrites? Discredit them, and we can feel safe again. Demoralize them, and we can resume life as normal. It’s the fallacy of Ad Hominem, and we all do it. Our subconscious really hates being uncomfortable.

Unlike Person #1, Person #2 does not aim to be illusive, untouchable, or adored. They aim to be effective. Their goal is connection, which requires insane levels of vulnerability. This feels like the a huge defining difference between these two. In a social age where everything is exposed to everyone and anything is subject to misinterpretation and ridicule, being vulnerable for a cause (other than getting validation) today can be likened to rescuers walking into the fire. One misstep, one effective troll, one smear campaign could bring Person #1’s entire reputation to the ground. The few people who loved and supported them could turn in a moment. Turns out Ad Hominem can be pretty effective. No one will know what to believe about them, and soon, after they’ve been cancelled, no one will care. This is the risk they take- because it’s not about being a hero. It’s about doing what you can. (*I doubt Nelson Mandela knew he would be remembered worldwide as a hero while he sat in prison and his name made the United State’s terrorist watch list. )

There you have it. These are the two people I’m always going back and forth between. The angel and devil on my shoulders if you will. The one on the left coaxing my relapse with a glass of validation and the other assuring me that no amount of likes and songs of praise can fill the void.

In the end, I’m the only one that has to live with myself.

On a good day, assuming I’m not PMSing or in a mental health slump, I know which of these two people I really want to be like. The real work is undoing almost three decades of conditioning that’s taught me that the validation I receive is a direct reflection of how lovable I am. How do I shut up the voice that screams inside when I’m not told within 30 seconds that the grilled cheese dinner I made is Michellin level. How do I quit the instinct to curl up and die when I say what may be the wittiest thing that’s ever been said and all I get is a polite chuckle? (That one happens more than I’d care to admit). So aspiring to be someone like Mohammed Ali (had his trophies taken away and lost his career because of his activism), or Rosa Parks (can you imagine feeling so much conviction in your right to a chair that you’d be arrested?), or any of the countless regular people who are actually losing their jobs and actively being silenced for speaking truth, seems like a long shot.

My conclusion is I’ve got a long way to go, that’s for damn sure. I don’t know if I’ll get there, but I take comfort in knowing that my chances of becoming Person #1 (the effortlessly adored MILF) becomes less and less likely with every passing day (and I don’t think my changing body and loss of social skills has anything to do with it.) Hopefully when that door finally closes for good (noticing my boobs have sunk another inch this year indicates I’m getting closer) I’ll finally scrap for good my lust for love and try daily to fit the shape of my true heroes. I think I’ll get there. And if you relate to this, I think you’ll get there too.

XO, Ti