first blog ever! - greetings from a stranger

   Greetings! I'm not sure if anyone is going to read this, but in case someone does, hello! Thank you for your time! This is my first time ever writing on a blog. I'm not entirely sure how to exactly format a blog post, but I honestly don't care enough to figure out a formal format. Will take any suggestions and advice of course, but I pray, don't nitpick this like an academic! 

    In regards to the kind of topics I want to write about, this blogging experience is selfish and borderline just me, a complete stranger, venting about my life! Today, I had a less than interesting day. And yesterday, I had a less than interesting day. But throughout my boring days, so many thoughts whirl around my head and it saddens me that there's no one to witness it. If you don't want to read what feels like someone's diary, this is not the kind of blog for you! 

I assume that most people have at least one person in their life that they can talk to everyday. Whether that's a sibling, a cousin, an aunt, an uncle, a parent, a neighbor, a friend, or a close colleague, most people have someone who is a witness to their existence. 

I have family, but I don't talk to anyone consistently. Currently, I'm living with my father and his girlfriend. I don't speak to my father often, nor his girlfriend despite seeing them everyday. Complicated relationships with parents, what a tragedy! Now, that's not a rare experience! My father is hard to talk to. He's the kind of man who likes to hear himself talk. It's not necessarily a bad trait to have, but it's overwhelming when paired with poor listening skills. If I have a story to share, suddenly the man doesn't like to hear himself talk and his phone is much more interesting. And his girlfriend? Imagine a 50 year old woman with the insecurity of a middle schooler. Yea. That's tough. I say this because when I first met her when I was a middle schooler, and she was apparently "scared" of me and would get angry at my father anytime he took me to the store to buy groceries, or school supplies, or new clothes. You know, basic necessities. She wants to consume all of his time and he allows it, despite also constantly cheating on her. Her and I live together, see each other everyday, but we only speak to each other on holidays when the family actually has dinner together for once. I only talk to her then because I feel bad listening to her desperately tell stories about herself while my father, her boyfriend, ignores her.  For now, that is all I will say about those two. 

     I have older siblings but all of them have moved out. My siblings and I aren't as close as we used to be. As we got older, we got more distanced. When I didn't have any friends in highschool, they told me to not grow dependent on them and to find my own friends to talk to. This kind of dynamic with my siblings has made me feel scared to be dependent on anyone honestly. Sort of annoys me, because for most people, it's normal to be close friends with your siblings and there's no concern about "dependency". Feeling rejected from a taste of normalcy from my own siblings, it's hard for me to make friends. 

    Friendship is something I don't understand anymore. I want friends, I crave friends, but I also don't know what it's like to have friends. I used to think I knew what it was like to have friends, until I realized that those friendships weren't my friends. Growing up without a mother or any sort of guide as I went through puberty, I was an ugly kid. Which, honestly should be the standard but unfortunately others bullied me for being an ugly kid going through puberty. I didn't realize that all the people who acted like my friends would only ever really talk to me when they wanted something from me. I'd do their homework for them, send them pictures of my homework papers in the middle of the night, give them my chips, bring them snacks, let them borrow my phone for a class period, and just on and on. I was, basically, a professional doormat. And being acne-ridden before skincare became a trend, while all the other kids around me didn't have a single pimple yet, I was bound to be bullied. I didn't even realize I was bullied until I got older and realize... oh? Wait, why did my friend say THIS about me? Why did my friend make a fake account on Instagram to tell me she wanted to smack my big forehead and that nobody likes me? Why did my classmates laugh at me? Why did that one guy aggressively push my head down anytime he passed my desk? Realizing what happened obviously frustrated me. This realization happened during quarantine. For me, quarantine was when I was in the 8th grade and for my entire freshman year of high school. When I went back to in person school as a sophomore, I was depressed to see all of the same peers from middleschool around me and I felt out of the loop realizing that everyone stayed in contact with each other during quarantine, except for me. I gave up on friendship in highschool. 

    I like new people, and new people like me. Compared to the kid going through puberty I once was who had no clue how to wash her hair, I'm much more socially liked in spaces I'd say. I say this based on my experiences working. I remember in highschool, I learned how to do makeup and I went through some rough phases learning which products to use. My father made me feel strange for my appearance. I once cried to him, I don't want to go to school, people stare at me. And he said it was because of all the makeup I put on my face. I still rock my full face of "unconventional" makeup I suppose, but it turns out, people actually like my look? Working as a cashier has given me a lot of exposure therapy. Except, not the exposure therapy I was expecting. Before I started my job about 2 years ago, I expected people to be rude to me because of how I looked. But turns out, the exposure therapy was learning how to deal with people actually liking me. Some customers apologize to me for staring at me because they think something about my look is nice. They might compliment my eyes, or my eyelashes, or my freckles, or my piercings, my look in general, or my makeup in general. And it's all sorts of people too. Sometimes it's little girls shyly approaching me with a compliment, and sometimes it's conservative looking old men with a veterans hat on who compliment me.     

    With my coworkers, as I get more comfortable with them, I naturally reveal more about myself to them. Maybe, after enough hours together, I'll admit something about how I don't have a mom. They'll tell me, "no way, I assumed you were raised by two lesbians honestly. You just get to work, no complaining, getting things done." I tell them how I worry that other people think I'm boring or weird, but they express shock hearing my own perception of myself. "You're like the farthest thing from a boring person, everything about you is super expressive." It's bizarre. People like me. It's people I admire who like me as well.

 Recently, I've gone to my first few house parties. I only know the guy who throws them because one of my siblings was roommates with them. Everytime I get ready for these parties, I'm preparing to defend myself. What if someone thinks my outfit is ugly? What if someone makes me feel weird for my makeup? What if I'm awkward and ruin the vibe? What if I'm unfunny, or what if people think I look mean and they think I'm angry when I'm being quiet? The last party I attended was super last minute. My sibling told me about it after they arrived and apparently everyone at the party asked about where I was. This shocked me, like wait, people actually care about my presence? And when I showed up 3 hours late, they were so excited. I don't know how many years it's been, but for the first time in a really long time, people screamed out of excitement seeing me arrive and ran up to hug me. Of course, everyone was already drunk by the time I arrived and humans become excited little toddlers when drunk, but it was still really nice. And instead of hearing insults, I heard compliments nonstop when I wasn't even expecting any. There's proof that people do actually like me, people value me, and I hear people laugh at my jokes all the time. The hard thing is that I just don't know how to bond with these people. I don't know how anyone is supposed to want to hang out with me often, or text me often. How do I grow my own inner circle? I'm in so many outer circles, but I don't know how to grow an inner circle. 

To create an inner circle would require me to reach out to people, ask to hang out, invite them somewhere, but the thing is, I don't have much to offer to others right now and I'm also not willing to beg. And, most of the people I meet already have inner circles. They invest their emotional effort, time, and social batteries into people they already know. Sometimes that means that they can't be the perfect close friend for everybody, and especially not someone new they barely know. They might already be so fulfilled with their friendships that they have no reason to think about making a new friend and letting someone in. It's entirely fair, valid, and normal. And I simply refuse to be the uncomfortable presence who begs to be included and considered as though I were entitled to anyone's friendship. Because, no one is entitled to friendship and that includes me. And honestly, I just don't necessarily feel proud of my life yet. How can I securely have friendships if there's going to be feelings of inadequacy against myself and feelings of scarcity towards the one rare person who actually wants to take me in under their wing and provide friendship? The life I dream of is one with many friends. One with real, meaningful connections where we make good memories together. Perhaps a romantic partner as a cherry on top if I'm being honest as the little yearning goblin that I am. I want to live in my own clean space, cook my own healthy and seasoned dinners, and be able to play my music loudly and confidently. I want to have more art to show to people, more accomplishments to show to people, and have more songs to play for people on my little piano. The main thing though, ultimately, I feel that I need to have friends, other connections, before I can be worthy of friends. Now, how does that work? I'm not so sure. 

I honestly feel sort of guilty even trying to make a blog, like who is to say my life is so important that I must write about it so others can read it, am I right? But honestly, I just don't want my life to be completely invisible. I want a space where I can actually voice my thoughts and take up some space, even if it's just on some website.

   This little blog can hopefully be a small little personal victory for me, one which will make me feel more proud of my life by allowing my life to be witness even if its just some text on a screen.  Though this blogging experience is entirely selfish, I'd like to think that perhaps someone might feel seen from me if there's another person who can relate to me. You're not alone! That's the beauty in writing. I might be an art major but I adore the art within literature and writing, and life itself. To share stories, perspectives, and thoughts is beautiful and I hope there can be some sort of value in my own. I apologize in advance if sometimes I can be pessimistic, or sometimes overly optimistic. I overthink a lot and I ruminate a lot. It's embedded within me, hence, ramblings from a stranger. I have a deep and unquenchable thirst for rambling.  I'm sorry if my writing isn't perfect as well. As a college student, I'm too busy making sure my actual essays for college credits are good. Hope you can understand ! 

Farewell,

From a Stranger