There was a time when I didn’t really care what anyone thought about me. Even though I felt very lonely and had very overwhelming bouts of depression, I did what I wanted to do and was who I wanted to be. I was very in tune with myself. Then one day I wasn’t. And I found myself caring what others thought of me, how they perceived me, how “normal” I seemed. Somehow, their value of me became more important than the value I gave myself and the trust I had in my own purpose for being here. It’s occurred to me that maybe the entire reason I began to place stock in their perception of me was because I lost that connection with myself. I use to revel in and enjoy the fact that I was seen and felt different from everyone else. I use to take it as a “good” sign meaning I was on the “right” track. Then I started to take it as a bad sign because it meant others didn’t approve of me and I was on the “wrong” track. I’m finally starting to see it as it is: opinion, and not necessarily a marker of anything special, distinct, or significant whatsoever.
As I’ve come to see more and more that self-examination and self-exploration are the best ways for me to truly come to experience a connection to the Divine and all of creation as well as to understand what all of “this” is, I find myself coming full circle with the understanding that others opinions don’t matter as much. I have to do what’s right for me, even if I’m not understood.
This realization gave me peace.