On 'what's going on' with me

'The Thinker', on top of 'The Gates of Hell'. Auguste Rodin.

O.J. Simpson once said, "They say people don't change, but I say they're wrong. People change, but it's usually for the worst". He may be a man that doesn't always speak the truth, but he wasn't too wrong in saying that. Or maybe he was. I've always believed that in life change is inevitable, but qualitatively neither good or bad, just inevitable.

Recently I've had some well-meaning people ask me "what's wrong", "what's going on with you". Now, to the majority of the non-family, non-religiously-affiliated of my friends this question may seem a little odd so allow me to provide a little background. Who is Vanessa? Some people that know me may answer this differently to other people who know me. Which is the right version? Both! All angles, probably. I'm no different to anyone in this respect. But a lot of people who know me from either being family or a religious peer will describe me as shy, non-engaging, quiet, and abiding. They see me that way because I was that way for such a long time. I am not the perfect Christian or the perfect relative, but I am presumed to be pretty close to it. Worse than being presumed to be perfect is to buy into the belief that you have to be. Even worse than that is knowing you are being evaluated at every encounter to ensure you still meet the same criteria. What can I tell you about me? I can tell you I am human.... And let's consider humans for a little while.

A human is born a small dependent child that needs the basic things we need thoughout our lives: nutrition, hydration, protection, sensory stimulation, social contact, and what we broadly call love. The difference between a child and a grown adult is that the child is initially dependent on others for all these basic needs. As he enters adolescence the social contact he needs becomes more than that of his parents and immediate family members; he seeks and needs the interaction with other peers. Later, maybe into puberty, he comes to crave a sexual relationship (whether that be physically or emotionally intimate or both). As adults we don't stop developing; our physical, social, and psychological needs change and the tasks we have to achieve to meet these needs change too. We are a constantly growing being.

Have I changed? I hope to God I have! I'd hate to still be thought of that defenceless child lying in a cot with only a cry to communicate my needs, and then waiting and needing someone to come help me meet them. Everyone changes. It's human to. It's inevitable in this skin and body to stop being human without killing yourself and hoping that those things we believe in about the afterlife are true, whatever they may be.

What's going on with me? The same thing that is going on with every other human being: living, experience, change. I can narrow one thing down, though. I was always an insecure, shy, quiet girl when I was younger. Gradually, and very very slowly I must add, I became a bit more and more confident. And by confidence in my sense I mean more at ease at accepting that I am also human, and at the same time that it is okay to be and feel different to others. I became confident to form my own identity. A long time ago Erikson, a psychologist, described a series of psychosocial stages of development that a human being transgresses as he grows chronologically older. Everyone ages; everyone equally and inevitably must grow psychologically. I guess where I am different from a lot of other people is that because of my pathological shyness, the formation of my own identity didn't happen when it does in most people: puberty / adolescence. Me, as I've mentioned in a previous post, I couldn't even look at my own body comfortably until I was 26 years old. 26! I couldn't believe or accept that that body I had to look at only because I couldn't get away from it, belonged to and was me. And that was the external aspect; I can't even begin to explain what the psychological experience I struggled with, these feelings of depersonilization and unreality, were like. I reached 26 years without yet fully defining and deciding who Vanessa was. And I'm 29 now... There are those that are intellectually retarded, I guess I prove that you can also be psychosocially retarded :)