I do know that there’s a part of me that is arrogant and makes me an elitist. I am well aware of the fact that there are people that are more talented and intelligent than me, but I also revel very much in the fact that there is something in me that sets me aside from the average person.
I’m not even talking about any strength of character, or something with that kind of emotional depth. It’s as shallow as knowing that it takes me a quarter of the effort to achieve better results than my peers, especially when it comes to anything which strength in the English language, whether in spoken or written form, can only bolster. I know that if I actually bothered to apply myself to half of the things which one might do, I would probably excel at most of them with relative ease.
But, you see, I wouldn’t consider myself a full blown elitist, for that side of me only rears its ugly head in things I know I have the aptitude for. For example, I would never dare think I can draw decently, let alone anything near half those works I so admire. I know that there exist for me things which I have to pump several times the normal amount of effort already dedicated people put into their craft. Photography for one, has never come naturally, despite my passion for it, and the desire to one day capture images that will speak volumes to the very depths of the viewer’s soul.
Most of all, I am painfully aware of the fact that I am, to put it crudely, bollocks at social interaction. (Teehee, Bollocks. I love that word. And yes, I know what it actually means.)
Yep, I’m terrible at social gatherings and functions. Even if I had the desire, I will never be a social butterfly. I feel insecure with people, especially those popular types. I try hard to put on a front and hope no one notices, but awkwardness always slips through, and I can tell people find me weird because I act different, and think different.
I don’t fit in any one social mould, nor have I ever considered trying. I like the things I do, and have certain values and beliefs because of various decisions and choices I made at the many crossroads of my life, none of which I regret. And yet, despite this confidence in self, I know that people who don’t know me, and sometimes even those who do, judge me because I’m not as…smooth with people. I know I shouldn’t let it bother me, but some days, it just does.
When all is said and done, I’ve just gone full circle to explain that I’m a partial elitist with a slight inferiority complex. It’s an oxymoron, and yet is so logical you can’t dispute it.
Perhaps it all stems from my upbringing, when everything I did or did not do was compared to my sister, who was all great, intelligent and accomplished in the eyes of my mother. In the earliest memories of my life, I was expected to be my sister, or better. There was no me in mother dear’s opinion. My stubborn personality kicked in, and I rebeled, despite knowing I could do better. After all, nothing I did would ever be recognised, no matter how well I did them. It was only what was to be expected, and thus did not warrant praise.
Now that I’m older, and wiser for it, I understand that my mother just wanted the best for me, no matter how terribly she portrayed that wish. But still, it doesn’t change the fact that her expressions of concern were so grossly misunderstood in those formative years. It took me time, and a great amount of preoccupation with who I wanted this self of me to be, to get past that. But stigmas often take a long time to fade, if at all. Perhaps, this upbringing is not the sole factor that gave birth to these contradictory feelings inside of me, but it definitely has a role in the whole scheme of things that make up my life.
