Stones' Diary: Built for Pressura'

Chapter 10.) Broken Hearted

Knowing one's self isn't as easy as the world or people make it seem. Social media is one of the biggest lies and easiest place where those who are unhappy with themselves turn to, to live a lie, compare themselves to others, or wish that they could be as brave as the person or people that they look up to. It's all about self-identity and self-love. There are a few definitions to define self-identity but the version that told Assyria's story began a little something like this.

It's about how she defines and identifies herself.

It's easy to stick to the easy script when approached and tell someone that you are Black or White or a college grad, but who are you within? What makes you, you? What makes you stand out? What is it about you that you would want the world or a stranger to know? How do you view yourself? Do you see yourself as others see you? Or are you more than just Black? White. Latino. Mixed Race. Single. A sister. What, who are you under the surface labels? How do you see yourself?

In today's world, people are used to hiding themselves. Due to fear of being judged by people, those we love, or by ourselves. You can be your worst enemy or your biggest supporter. If you are afraid of yourself. Who you are or who you are discovering to be, then you will continuously hold onto fear and self-doubts when it comes to being your hidden self in the presence of others. But why?

Because the version of you that they thought they knew isn't the version that you keep hidden. For your safety. Your peace. Until you're ready. Self-identity or self-understanding is about understanding yourself and loving who you are even if others will not or can not. But it's more difficult for some than it is for others. People define themselves in various ways. Some do so by announcing their talents, what they love, who they love, their race or ethnic background, what they believe in, or by their gender. But in doing so, there's something that they leave out.

Who are you under that blanket you are so accustomed to wearing? Sy couldn't quite figure that part out yet. Being a lover of crystals and horoscopes was an edifying experience for her. It taught her things about herself that she couldn't understand or learn from her family. She discovered things about the many people she encountered but just how accurate were horoscopes? Did crystals really help? Did it really heal and increase moods?

She wondered.

But still, it made her feel good. It made her different than her family. If she were the black sheep or the outcast, she wanted to wear it with pride. But how could she when she was often running away from things that didn't make sense to her? Being the same, makes the world seem so bland but being different is what made her feel special. Seen. Heard. Thought of. It made her forget about her bottled-up emotions.

Why should she care to form a relationship with her family when she spent years feeling as if they always left her out? Counted her out. Why should she care how they felt when nobody cared about her unless she was acting out? Why did it take her wanting to leave for them to care when she needed them to just for once, put her first? One day. All she wanted was for someone to think about he, for once.

She couldn't blame her parents. She'd admit she was wrong for disrespecting her mom. But when a person is hurt, they hurt others. Even the innocent. She could put the fault on her siblings. Her sisters. They were living their life and rarely around. Nobody cared about her until she wanted to die. And then what? Everyone wanted to be concerned and then boom, the checking up stopped. She was invisible again.