True self?

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Do you ever get the feeling that who you think you are isn’t who you really are? And that maybe who you really are is someone that who you think you are wouldn’t like — or at least wouldn’t feel comfortable being?

A lot of the stories here talk about people discovering and becoming their “true selves,” and it seems like — in the stories at least — they’re a lot happier.

Back when I assumed I was male, I would look at myself in the mirror and not really see my body. One of those seeing-but-not-seeing things. And if I saw a photograph of myself, I didn’t like it, I thought I was ugly. As I travelled the path to and through transition, I noticed that I could look at myself in the mirror and see a person. Hardly beautiful, but okay, kind of average, definitely not really “ugly.” (I still can’t see my eye color, though.)

Now when I look at who I am (in life, not in the mirror), I have the sneaking feeling that I’m seeing-but-not-seeing myself. I assume I’m really seeing myself, but there’s odd stuff around the edges of my vision that make me wonder if who I think I’m seeing is maybe just kind of a curtain painted to look like who I want to think I am, behind which stands a rather different and very alien person. Sort of like the horror story trope where you see a nice man — a doctor, a neighbor, a parent, even — but then you look down at his feet and you notice that what are sticking out from under his clothes are tentacles, not feet. (Cf.: Men in Black)

Sometimes, when I think too much, I wonder if for some of us, maybe we’re better off not knowing who we really are. Or at least happier.

[29. May 2021]

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