Hypocrisy and Me

I am a firm believer that everyone on Earth is ‘fake.’ Now when I say this, don’t imagine some trashy teenager in a club screaming FAKE at every other woman who passes her by. Think of the actual word, and what it meant back before media nonsense popularized the word as an overused insult.

We all have true self and a self we present to the world.

Politeness, n: The most acceptable hypocrisy.

Ever nod your head and agree to do the dishes, even though you want to walk up to your mother and smack her dead in the face? Or wait to eat-  despite your growling stomach- because not everyone is seated at the table yet?

These are all passive acts we do despite our personal needs and wants. And just like the rest of the world- I have two FOUR selfs.

1. The Actual Me. The person that I am internally. How I think and feel without discretion. No one ever will know the real me. As humans we tend to stifle this person in order to pacify those around us, and ensure a solid reputation.
2. The Worker Bee. This me is a beast. There is one thing in this world that I am very confident about and that is my ability to work. It is in my blood (Thanks, Dad!). This person is polite, honest, tough, serious, social- everything you need to possess in order to be great with customers and coworkers. I could understand how this could be perceived as fake, but this is someone I love to be. And, although, I have had those customers who I just want to ‘bow in the face, I truly enjoy being this person (Irony Alert: My anxiety loves to tackle the things that I am great at).
3. The Social Butterfly. This me is fun. At times, I can be one loud chick, but my ability to become quick friends with almost anyone, allows me to prosper in the area of sociality.
4. The Exact Opposite of who I really am. This me is reserved for specific moments rather than specific situations. This is the self that allows me to look innocent in the eyes of my parents when I am up to no good, allows me to seem normal in public when I am panicking inside, and nods hello to my neighbors every morning despite the fact that I want to call the ASPCA on the two dogs they chain up outside (in 100+ degree weather) for 8 hours at a time (with no water).

 

What does this all dwindle down to? Hypocrisy. The perceived us and the actual us.

I know myself well enough to see the hypocritical things that I do.

I am a walking hypocrite.

• I exude confidence. I have been told this my entire life. I guess those acting classes really paid off. Yet, I am internally one of the most self-conscious people around.
• I loathe and often lecture people who interrupt me or tune out of conversations, yet I often find my mind drifting away.
• My bedroom is cleaned on a daily basis, but I let the dishes stack up until I no longer have any spoons.
• I preach acceptance but I chastise the super-religious and the narrow-minded. ( I justify this by telling myself that those are two types of people who do nothing but judge- and when you judge you open the door to being judged)
• I constantly have my life in order- plans made, goals set, household organized- but my mind is home to some of the most chaotic residents possible.
• I consider myself a realist- not optimistic, not pessimistic. I am the type of person that relies on pure scientific fact, but I can convince myself in 2.5 seconds that I am going to die when I couldn’t be in a more secure environment.

The list goes on and on. 

The reason I am writing this? Because last night I realized that this way of living is extremely common and well-managed amongst the human species, yet it is behind some of my most self-destructive behavior.

This persona I put on for the world to view, stifles my true self. My struggling, un-well self. In turn I never truly face my demons. And when someone doesn’t face their demons, those demons manifest and they prey upon your weaknesses.

If I had been able to break my “Best Girlfriend Ever” mold at the age of 17, I would have had the strength to leave an abusive relationship the second it began. If I had let go of the embarrassment of being weak, I would have been able to reach for help. If I had allowed myself to be sick and accepted it as a true disorder, I wouldn’t have spent years bullying myself because of it.

My weaknesses were mine to make. 

My strengths were mine to prove. 

And subconsciously, my need to please and my need to be loved overshadowed my physical and mental well-being.

Realizing this- was a heavy-handed slap from reality.

I convinced others that I was worthy, and then I convinced myself I wasn’t. What I really needed was time to focus on myself, rely on loved ones for support, and just regain my mental stability.

What causes this? That, I am not sure. I thought about it for quite some time.

Embarrassment. Fear. Pride. Insecurity. Perfectionism. 

Whatever it is, it lives in all of us.

 

 

 

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