I find that people want to be the one to watch in the room. The one to put forward an idea no one’s heard before, or stand out. People are passionate about their ideas, emphasizing their ownership of them. Their passions, ambitions, ideas, they all come from a place of creativity and are shaped by the way they perceive the world. I am no stranger to this feeling, of wanting recognition for an interesting idea I think up, or having someone refer to something I adore as something that reminds them of me. I believe we all want to feel that there is something about us that is special, and only just for us.
Although I admire the thoughts and ideas that make a person stand out from the crowd, lately I feel like it’s the connections that matter to me more. Whether it’s the songs I listen to, or my favorite flavor of ice cream, or a feeling I describe that just resonates with someone else, it’s the things that match that foster a bond.
Yet, I realize that when something does click, I probably learned about this seemingly unique thing from someone else. The way I use certain phrases, I likely picked up from a dear friend. My family probably has a hand in the kinds of food I like and the ways I express myself. When the free time comes around, far and near, I crochet, but I picked that up from a girl I used to spend bus rides home from school with. My favorite bands, ones I’m currently listening to as I write this, I listen to because two of my closest friends in high school introduced them to me, though we may not talk anymore beyond a happy birthday text.
A few years ago I stumbled upon a comment posted on Reddit capturing the essence of my meaning perfectly: I am a mosaic of everyone I’ve ever loved, even for a heartbeat.
It’s not to say I don’t find things that make me who I am, I just have grown to appreciate that those who are the biggest parts of my life, those who were in the past, and those who I have only interacted with in passing, have had an influence in shaping my self concept. In this sense. we’re still unique mosaics, in part a culmination of those we love.
Going one step further, we’re not just mosaics of everyone around us, but also of the versions of ourselves from as recent as yesterday. I definitely would have given off a very different first impression when I was 5, 12 or even 17, than the one I do today. But this doesn’t change the fact that somewhere I still want to be an author and write silly stories, that I want to dip my toe into every new activity, and that I want to strive for some form of future success.
The question I still ask myself is whether the parts I have lost over time, from the doppelgangers (a sneaky How I met your mother reference if you will) of my past, were the parts that made me feel most me. And if that is the case, whether they’re worth reconciling. I suppose I can only trust that they are there somewhere in some form, and that those important to me know what the cornerstones of my uniqueness are.
Illustration by Anushka Sabhanam
I find that people want to be the one to watch in the room. The one to put forward an idea no one’s heard before, or stand out. People are passionate about their ideas, emphasizing their ownership of them. Their passions, ambitions, ideas, they all come from a place of creativity and are shaped by the way they perceive the world. I am no stranger to this feeling, of wanting recognition for an interesting idea I think up, or having someone refer to something I adore as something that reminds them of me. I believe we all want to feel that there is something about us that is special, and only just for us.
Although I admire the thoughts and ideas that make a person stand out from the crowd, lately I feel like it’s the connections that matter to me more. Whether it’s the songs I listen to, or my favorite flavor of ice cream, or a feeling I describe that just resonates with someone else, it’s the things that match that foster a bond.
Yet, I realize that when something does click, I probably learned about this seemingly unique thing from someone else. The way I use certain phrases, I likely picked up from a dear friend. My family probably has a hand in the kinds of food I like and the ways I express myself. When the free time comes around, far and near, I crochet, but I picked that up from a girl I used to spend bus rides home from school with. My favorite bands, ones I’m currently listening to as I write this, I listen to because two of my closest friends in high school introduced them to me, though we may not talk anymore beyond a happy birthday text.
A few years ago I stumbled upon a comment posted on Reddit capturing the essence of my meaning perfectly: I am a mosaic of everyone I’ve ever loved, even for a heartbeat.
It’s not to say I don’t find things that make me who I am, I just have grown to appreciate that those who are the biggest parts of my life, those who were in the past, and those who I have only interacted with in passing, have had an influence in shaping my self concept. In this sense. we’re still unique mosaics, in part a culmination of those we love.
Going one step further, we’re not just mosaics of everyone around us, but also of the versions of ourselves from as recent as yesterday. I definitely would have given off a very different first impression when I was 5, 12 or even 17, than the one I do today. But this doesn’t change the fact that somewhere I still want to be an author and write silly stories, that I want to dip my toe into every new activity, and that I want to strive for some form of future success.
The question I still ask myself is whether the parts I have lost over time, from the doppelgangers (a sneaky How I met your mother reference if you will) of my past, were the parts that made me feel most me. And if that is the case, whether they’re worth reconciling. I suppose I can only trust that they are there somewhere in some form, and that those important to me know what the cornerstones of my uniqueness are.
Illustration by Anushka Sabhanam
