the cosplaying adult

Growing up in a big family meant that a lot was chosen for me before I knew what free will and the beauty of choice was. Whether it was my parents, older siblings or the name of our family that I needed to protect, there was always a certain paradigm or rubric of living that was predetermined for me. Because of this, decision making was never a strong suit for me. And as a child of very decisive parents who had already chosen my path for me, I struggled and still do with the concept of discernment because it was never taught to me in those formative years. And unfortunately for my parents, God gave me a rebellious spirit that enjoyed going against the grain so I got myself into trouble, often.

The earliest memory I have of being “disobedient” was in first grade, stealing skittles out of the ‘gold star’ jar (sorry, mrs. hitchner).  We all know stealing is considered bad on a morality scale but it felt so much worse as a muslim and child of an immigrant. It felt like I’d just committed the most heinous crime but again God gave me a rebellious spirit so I leaned into the “black sheep” trope. As an adult, I can recognize my behavior as attention-seeking which would make sense as a child in a family of eleven with only two parental figures. But between my mom acting like my “bad behavior” would get us deported and also send me to hell, it honestly just left me with a ton of shame and guilt that would continue to exist well into adulthood. 

So much of the current versions of ourselves is rooted in shit we suppressed in childhood (I learned that in psych 101).

My younger self really just wanted the freedom to explore, to challenge the norm and not be shamed for being curious. This translated into rebelling at an early age because I felt confined to a version of myself that I didn’t choose or honestly didn’t even fully identify with. Don’t get me wrong, I genuinely believe most of what my parents wanted for me was rooted in protection. Things like not letting me spend the night at a friends house or eat other peoples’ foods is a rule I’ve grown to appreciate because of the stories I’ve heard as an adult where young people had been taken advantage of. So there’s definitely sympathy there for how they chose to raise me, and I genuinely believe they did their best given the circumstances of raising their kids in a foreign place.

But it was moments like not being able to decide my major in college for myself without a fear of disappointment, that’d make me doubt my ability to make good decisions. Moments like expressing my desires to be a creative being shot down because it wasn’t lucrative or notable in our community, that’d make me feel small and not good enough. Even moments as simple as choosing friends and being told they are bad people that would ruin my life (and sometimes they were.. but like let me figure that out?) without giving me any real reasoning besides “trusting their wisdom” that made me feel like I had no capacity to be a good judge of character. Because of this, I spent majority of my twenties putting my trust in other peoples judgement. Be it my friends, family or even my romantic partner at the time.. their opinions on my discernment or lack thereof, weighed heavily, and often would be the marker for whatever big decision I’d need to make. While all other small, more fleeting decisions would be made impulsively and feed my rebellious spirit, despite being an adult and not needing to be that way any more.

I say all of that to say, that regardless of age and time, there is an inner child that needs to be fed daily as long as you’ve gotten him or her used to being starved or suppressed. And it’s interesting how the more you feed them, the less they actually need from you. This is something I’m learning through therapy. I’ve also come to know that the more you starve them, the more they’ll keep resurfacing like a bad ass little kid that won’t take “no” for an answer.

I’ve spent most of my twenties subconsciously starving my inner child. And it seems as though these last couple years before I hit 30, I’m seeing more and more of her resurfacing in ways that I haven’t been able to quite get a grip on. I often hear my mother’s voice in my head when she (my inner child) resurfaces which is scary as fuck because I wasn’t a fan of my mom as a kid and naturally that triggers my rebellion. I’m always caught in between those two versions of myself: the version of me that feels small and indecisive and the version of me that is rebellious and impulsive. To this day, I don’t know which version is actually me, like as an adult. Or if maybe there’s some third version of me I’ve yet to step into? This lack of certainty makes me feel like an inadequate adult sometimes. Like i’m cosplaying or something. It’s weird because I have these very adult responsibilities, friendships and conversations but deep down I feel like I’m just faking it. I’m curious to know if anyone else feels this way ever? If you don’t, that’s okay too. This one might not be for you but thank you for taking the time to get to know me a little better and staying until the end. I appreciate you.

Ciao for now ~

with luv,

always, in all ways.