Everyday I’m forced to face the dichotomy of Me vs. Me.
I dress plainly-jeans and a t-shirt-because I can never seem to agree with myself. One me (let’s call her MeA) wants to dress like a pretty pretty girly girl. She wants to wear make-up and frilly skirts with girlish tops and expensive shoes. She wants to bewitch and beguile every person she passes with a single look that begs them to beg for more. MeA is demure and poised with perfectly coiffed hair and a delicate fragrance that lingers in rooms when she’s long gone from them.
Another me (we’ll call her MeB) see things a little differently. MeB wants to wear baggy pants and black shirts with writing that proclaims loudly to go fuck yourself. MeB wants to scream and yell and beg every person who passes to look around, just for a minute, and see the society killing us right now. She wants to tell them that it isn’t just about how you look. She wants to scream that she’s not just a collection of parts to be examined by every passerby like some insect on display-I’m a goddamn person, for fuck’s sake, not a science project.
MeA wants to make sure that everything around her is completely harmonious. She wants to be sure that everyone is included in her courtesy-even the crazy people yelling at each other next door. She wants to maintain the highest amount of dignity possible and remember to be proper at all times. She doesn’t curse or speak out of turn or make a big deal out of whatever small infraction a friend may have incurred-no matter how many times it’s been repeated.
MeB wants to make sure everything around her is fair. She doesn’t want to fight, but she isn’t afraid to pull up her fits and take her stance. She’ll yell at the crazy people next door and laugh when they yell back. She’ll speak the moment she must-and not a minute later. MeB doesn’t bend to the wills of men or women or anyone, for that matter, though she will deign to take advice most days. MeB calls her friends on their shit and makes sure things are taken care of.
MeA wants to write fantasy and be known as a beauty amongst authors. She wants to be a publishing darling. She wants to follow the beaten path to prove that she’s worth something to society and that she’s not just some worthless wanderer incapable of settling down.
MeB wants to be a journalist and an activist and tell the whole system off. She wants to be heard as a woman and as a person. She wants to beat new paths, prove that you don’t have to fit in to stand out and, most of all, she doesn’t want to stagnate.
Both of these polarized creatures are me. Everyday is a constant struggle to keep them at peace and sometimes I fail. Sometimes the compromises I’ve made to appease one have deeply offended the other and made me question who I am and what I’m doing. Often I’m completely crippled to inactivity by the warring forces of my personality and am afraid they’ll never be reconciled. Every time I find some good, solid middle ground I look up and they’re looming over me; larger than ever, ready to destroy something in the heat of battle.
Mostly I just don’t want that something to be me.