I’ve always looked at you through somebody else’s eyes. I’ve never really taken the time out to understand you for who you are. That probably explains why I’m so needy for that one important person’s approval, and another and yet another; and yet another. It’s easy for me to play God and point this out in others, but I’ve never been able to call this out with you.
I guess it’s very easy being a hypocrite.
One of the things I’ve ever wanted was to receive a love letter. One that’s written by hand, attempting to explain how worthy I am of your love. And why the author of the letter loves me with all their heart. It’s easy to pin these hopes on the other person, especially when you’re in love. But nothing can be further from the truth.
I’m sorry that I’ve assessed you by somebody’s standards. I’m sorry that I took somebody else’s misinformed opinion over your intuition. I’m sorry that it’s taken me 23 years to acknowledge all that you’ve done for me. For making me who you are.
In my creative writing class, we were taught to ask ‘WHY’. Question everything, and never walk away from a confrontation, if it came to it. For all these years, I’ve never once questioned these negative feelings I’ve had. Never once I’ve questioned where they might be coming from, never once spared a thought on how you might be feeling. My friends think that I’m kind (most days, I think I’m kind too), but I don’t think I’ve been kind to you.
I feel like I don’t really know you for who you are. One minute, you’re extremely sweet and gentle, the next, you have a ruthless, cruel side that makes you scary. You can take quick decisions on what to eat for lunch/dinner, but you can never make up your mind on what to wear for the weekends. You are happy and cheerful on the outside, so much so that people think you are a perpetually happy person (“also contagious”), but only I know, how much is going on, on the inside. You think that you failed to make a good impression because somebody didn’t smile back at you/return your compliment/was in a different head-space; you think that you feel helpless when someone chides you; you think you’re the most idiotic person when you don’t grasp something in the first instance. Your intelligence and ability to empathize are somehow very cruelly linked to what somebody thinks. You feel like you can never live up to a standard and you continuously feel like you’re always failing.
Some people find your confidence intimidating, some find you to be a happy-go-lucky person, some others downright despise you for your misgivings. Why has it mattered all this long? Why is that approval from someone else so important? Why do you crave mindless attention and vague acceptance on the outside, when you haven’t been able to mindfully be yourself? When you haven’t been able to accept all that you are, both the amazing and terrible things that you are?
I’ve always wanted a love letter. One that ends with “Everything that I am, is completely, undeniably, entirely yours. I trust you.” It was wrong of me to expect this from another person when I haven’t written it myself. That was a sure-shot plan to get myself easily disappointed. So perhaps, I need to confront you and stay. Stay for all the terribly wonderful and wonderfully terrible things that you are. Stay that you are mine and most importantly, stay because I’m yours.
Perhaps, I’ll start that today –
Dear Haripriya,
I’m sorry that it’s taken 23 years to accept myself for who I am. I’m sorry that I’ve chided and shut you down when it was really important. I’m sorry that I didn’t trust my gut when it mattered. I call out your hypocrisy today, but it’s done with love. I want to be loved, more than you love your romantic person. I want to be loved, accepted, and recognized for my voice, not because it's important, but because I am the voice. I want to be felt because I’m there. I want to be kind to myself because self-care is all there is.
I owe it to me, for all that I am. I owe it to myself to confront all that I am. I owe it to look past labels, relationships, designations, everything else to really make out who I am.
I know I will keep making mistakes and will be quick in blaming myself for it, but I promise this —
I’ll become a person who deserves you.
I am told that I’d be a good mom to my children because there’s a fierce protectiveness vibe that people catch on to. Not only will I do that to my kids, of course, but I want to be able to fiercely protect you from all the things you will ignore, endure, call out, let go and walk out of — whatever they may be. I want to be the space where you can be yourself, unapologetically.
I want to be the person I call ‘Home’.
Everything that I am, is completely, undeniably, entirely mine. I trust myself.
Yours truly,
HP
