If you read my 'About me' section, you may have seen myself explaining why I have decided to untangle the knots in my head in such an open space — the World Wide Web. I say:
"I am starting this as a platform to just speak — in the digital realm, with the hope that it will enable me to begin to have these difficult conversations in reality."
I would hope that this is enough to show that I'm not doing this in a false effort for attention — I'm already well practiced in doing just that via my selection of seductive selfies on Instagram. Yet, even the amount I post on the gram isn't a form of vanity or narcissism, instead it's a sheer attempt to fill a void of loneliness.
In a delusional way, I would post a photo when I felt that no one in the world was thinking or cared about me — so when the 'likes' came rolling in, I convinced myself that I wasn't alone. Each photo posted acted like a trigger to remind everyone that I was still here — almost like a mini call for help to cure my loneliness.
In fact, I noticed that whenever I got into a relationship, the amount of content that I posted on social dropped dramatically — the lonely void was instead filled with daily compliments and affection from someone real. But the thing that scared me the most was that deep down I knew that 'likes' and physical affection was not the cure — it was a short-term placebo.
So where am I today? Three weeks ago, I deleted my Instagram account, and then remembered I worked in marketing, so that was never really going to work — instead I gave my feed a big cleanse, deleting all unnecessary photos of me. I've also deleted the app, so easy access is no longer as easy.
I then discussed with my therapist how to best show the world all of the faces beneath the Reena veneer — the happiness, the sadness, the creativity, the love, the discovery, the anger, the passion. It may seem odd to seek for help about how to tell my own story — surely only I should be able to do that, but the simple reason I asked is because, I genuinely don't know how to. I don't know how to use my words, my voice box, my actions to tell my closest friends and family about the parts of me that may make them uncomfortable.
But now I am 28 and like the plague this has all started to eat me up from the inside out.
I guess, I'm scared of rejection, I'm scared to make people feel uncomfortable, and I'm sacred of their judgement. In the last two months, when I first started talking about my insecurities, some of the responses that I received were:
"I'm not emotionally in a good place to help you."
"Are you sure, you're not just feeling like this because of the break-up?"
"I thought you were confident, maybe you're just reacting badly to the break up."
That's the point, the break up was the trigger to me finally looking at my insecurities in the face, and calling out for the right kind of help — the help that I've always needed, but I didn't want to acknowledge.
Overall, because I've built up such a strong character on the outside, it feels as though it's too late to tell people what's really going on, and when I try, they don't believe me. So I'm taking a step back, and instead I am planning to start those conversations in the virtual space — this blog and Instagram (for now). I want to share the full picture of me to help manage expectations and set the truest scene — all with the hope that this will enable me have these difficult conversations more freely in reality.
I really hope this works.