Tuesday 9 August 2011

Blank slate

Today's revelations have been scarily central to my personality.

I realise that many of my likes and dislikes are there specifically to prove to myself and the rest of the world that I can cope. That I'm a coper, someone who can *superar*, as the Spanish would say - overcome, beat - the challenges of life. But in reality, if you take away the desire to prove myself, I actually feel completely the opposite.

It started when the thought suddenly came to me as I was dozing through the meds this afternoon that I never wanted to go to Colombia for my Year Abroad. I wanted to go to Mexico, and I'm angry with myself for going along with the Colombia idea.

Similarly, I don't enjoy solo holidays, it's a joyless experience visiting somewhere without someone to share it with. I don't like moving to a new city, starting from scratch every few years.

I don't like high pressure jobs and I'm not actually all that ambitious. I enjoy spending my leisure time lazing about chatting, watching TV and reading; I don't enjoy mountainbiking or long hikes. I like embroidery and knitting and dress-making. I enjoy reading new languages but I really don't like speaking them. Motorbikes are pretty to look at, but that's as far as it goes.

And I think I will ultimately regret the decision not to have children. I'm already starting to.

I know all this sounds like I'm suddenly deciding I don't like any of the things I can no longer do. I guess that's true, but it's coincidental. The point is that some of the very cornerstones of my personality - and I expect there are more to come - have suddenly been uprooted. The book would talk about the pain being a function of my rage at myself for all of the pretense.

That may well be so. I feel a bit like a newborn, or some kind of amnesiac, though, who's now having to figure out who they are.

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