Ever since I can remember, I've felt a bit different. It's like there's a part of me that just doesn't click with others.
Understanding people, especially feeling empathy, has been a real struggle. I've even had moments where I wondered if I had some hidden psychopathic side, which sounds crazy considering I come from a loving family. But this feeling of being different has stuck with me through all these years, and I'm not sure what to make of it.
Let's go back to my elementary school days—the time when life was easy and carefree. I was the oldest sibling, getting all the attention and love. But everything changed when my little sister came along. My mom focused on taking care of her, leaving me with my grandparents and a sense of desperation. I couldn't help but wonder, "Am I not good enough?" It led to me being unkind to my sister, which, looking back, fills me with regret. Those childhood days, despite the pain, are a crucial part of my story.As I grew up, I just wanted to be a better person. I still do.
Thankfully, life brought some incredible people into my world—family and friends who've been there for me. But here's the catch: I often feel like I don't deserve these amazing people because deep down, I worry I might be a bit mean. It's a strange paradox.Jealousy has been my companion since forever. It's been there through high school and college, making everything feel like a competition. Winning was nice, but it left me feeling empty. There was this constant struggle to keep up with everyone else. Wanting to make friends was hard because, in a way, they were also my competition.
Looking back, it's cringe-worthy. Why are people so complicated? And don't get me started on comparing myself to others. It's a habit I'm trying to kick. I hate it. During my time in Germany, I had this acquaintance who made me feel really insecure. She was pretty, active, smart, and disciplined. Her constant hustle, showcased on Instagram, made me feel guilty whenever I needed a break. But that's not true—everyone has their own pace, and it's okay to take things slow.
What bugs me is that I hate seeing others fall into the same comparison trap, even though I struggle with it myself. I want to tell them they're enough just as they are. Everyone has something special about them, but we often can't see it in ourselves. We get caught up in this never-ending loop of wanting to be someone else.
Another thing that's been a constant struggle is my relationship with my brother. I adore him. He's the cutest, and watching him grow is a joy. But here's the thing—he's the youngest, so naturally, everyone's attention is on him, and I'm okay with that. The tough part is that my brother had everything I wanted as a child. Growing up, my only goal was to please my parents. I craved attention, thinking I could only get my parents' love if I worked hard and got top grades. It's different with my brother; they love him just as he is. When my sister and I moved to Germany, he was the only one at home, and my parents showered him with love.
It hurts because back in my day, my parents were always too busy. They only noticed me when I did something extraordinary, like winning a contest or acing a math exam. With my brother, my mom is all in—taking him to classes, being friends with his friends' moms. It made me angry, leading to fights with my parents.So, here I am, laying it all out: Am I a bad person? It's not a simple yes or no; it's a journey. I'm still figuring it out, and maybe you are too. Life is messy and confusing, and we're all just trying to make sense of it.
As I navigate these doubts, I can't help but think about societal expectations. The pressure to be this ideal "good person" adds complexity to the journey of self-discovery. Social media bombards us with images of perfection, success stories, and a constant reminder that we should always strive to be better.But what if being a better person means accepting our flaws, embracing our uniqueness, and understanding that the path to self-improvement is a lifelong journey?
In the midst of doubts and discoveries, my sister has been a constant. We fought a lot during childhood, but something changed as we grew older. She became my confidante, my partner in crime, and the one who made me believe in true love. Our relationship isn't perfect; we annoy each other, but there's a deep and enduring love. It makes me wonder if true love is about accepting someone despite their flaws—maybe even ourselves.