I’m not on that level yet

People will judge you by how you look. I’ve made my peace with that. Somebody sees you and decides who you are before you’ve opened your mouth. That isn’t new and it isn’t going away, so I’m not going to pretend it’s the problem. That’s just how people are.

My complaint is what we built on top of it.

We took something true about people and let it decide everything. Their opinion comes first. Mine barely gets asked.

Both of those can coexist. I can know exactly what my family will say about my hair and dye it anyway. Noticing what people think is one thing. Letting it decide for you is another.

But we don’t separate them, and we’ve got a whole set of words that keeps them stuck together. Respect. Home training. Being wise. Not bringing shame to the family. It all sounds like character, and some of it is. Underneath a lot of it, though, if you’re honest, is fear. That’s what people-pleasing is. Not kindness. Fear.

And the fear says something specific. Mine said this, for years: I’m not on that level yet, so I can’t express myself.

That took me a long time to hear myself saying. Look at what it assumes. It says being yourself is a reward, something you earn. First the degree, then the job, then the money, then the house, and then finally, once nobody can question you, you’re allowed to have preferences. Until then you keep your head down and do what you’re told.

Photo by Adrian Swancar on Unsplash

I did that. I dressed the way my parents wanted for years. Police stopped me anyway.

There is no level, though. The people I thought had already arrived are still watching somebody too. The man with the good job is watching his boss. His boss is watching his own reputation in church. The pastor is watching his congregation. Nobody in that chain is free. Everybody’s still performing for somebody.

So it never comes. You don’t graduate into being yourself. You just get older, still waiting for a yes that was never coming.

That’s the part that gets me, because what you’re spending while you wait isn’t money. It’s the specific years where you have energy and nothing much to lose. I’m 23. Whatever I do with these ones, I do once. I’m not letting my youth waste away being scared of what a room might say about me.

It’s worse in a group. When everyone’s watching each other instead of deciding for themselves, nobody’s actually choosing anything. We just copy each other, then call it culture and defend it. I won’t do that to myself.

None of this means opinions don’t count. They count sometimes. The elders knows things I don’t. There are rooms where I should pay attention and adjust, and I will. What I’m finished with is adjusting automatically, without ever asking what I want.

I want to know what I’d pick if nobody was watching. I’m not trying to prove anything to anyone. I just want to find out while I’m still young enough for the answer to matter.

Somebody’s going to see something about me tomorrow and decide who I am before I open my mouth. Well, I don’t care.