I had a thought the other day. Every single person that I know, knows a different version of me. Think about it. You show yourself in different ways to different people, and no one really knows you entirely, except for you.
My employees know me one way, each of my friends knows a slightly different me, my family knows someone entirely different. And my husband knows someone entirely different than all of these people.
We all put on masks and different faces when we’re out in the world. We show people what we want them to see. At work I tend to be brighter, bubblier. I want my employees and coworkers to like me, but still respect me. I want to be approachable, but still an authority figure. To friends I’m fun, someone to have a good time with, but also someone to talk to, someone to share interests with, someone to have those deep conversations with. My guy friends know the fun and flirty me they watch sports with. My husband knows the me that’s probably closest to the real me.
But at the end of the day, no one knows the you that’s truly you other than you. Think about it. You’re the one stuck with your thoughts and feelings. The things that you don’t share with everyone, the thoughts that you don’t talk about, the feelings that you don’t admit to anyone that you have.
But how well can we really know ourselves? I still feel like most of them time I’m trying to figure that out. Sometimes I feel like, because of the bipolar, my emotions and thoughts are constantly in flux. It’s hard to figure out what’s really you at the core when it feels like it’s changing every day. I’ve definitely gone through periods where I question everything about me – do I really enjoy doing the things that I do? Do I really like the things that I like?
In some manner of speaking I’m in the process of tearing myself down and putting it back together. I’m trying to figure out who I really am, who I want to be. Who my realest self really is.