LEARNED AFFECTATIONS

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Hi love, how are you? Welcome aboard, I hope you find hope, happiness and peace here.

I think every adult should ask themselves these questions at intervals: How much of who I am is actually me, and how much of it have I learned to perform?

I grew up learning to do so many things because that is how the world is. And by learning things, I am not talking about skills; I am talking about ways of life.

One thing that I was made to learn early in life was people pleasing. Jesus, how I was taught to preserve people’s ego at the expense of my own ego, if I was even allowed to have any. My mother would have you apologize to people that hurt you like they’re the victim and you dare not object.

Another thing I was forced to learn was modesty—the ability to act humble after winning a big feat. You can never boast of what you toiled to achieve, you are not allowed any praise. You cannot wear the crown or carry the trophy as yours because doing so shows that you are a proud person.

I am sure I am not the only person on this table.

A week ago, it was brought to my attention that my bright pink trouser is stained with blood, my body reacted with shame but I immediately calmed myself down because that shame is in fact one of the things I was taught to feel. A lady is taught to be ashamed of what her body is biologically expected to perform.

How does that make any sense?

All of these things and more are learned affectation. We have performed these things, rehearsed them so much that our spirit, soul and body now categorize them as part of our lives.

One cannot bask in the euphoria of their achievements for the fear of being tagged as vain. Perhaps we have learned to perform humility so well that we no longer know how to celebrate ourselves without feeling guilty.

We just want people to see the great things that we have achieved, we are not all about making men see us.

Few days ago, a friend did something good and he told me that he’s so happy about it and I told him that it is that happiness that would fuel him to do more and I think that sums up why people should be allowed to show off their achievements and not just act like it’s just another normal fest that doesn’t mean much.

Someone would pass a compliment on you, instead of you to accept gracefully, the learned affectation of humility would make you wash down the object of compliments. Why? Why? Why?

Maybe the work is not to become a completely different person but to interrogate the things we have been taught to call ourselves. To ask, Do I really believe this, or have I simply rehearsed it for so long that it now feels like truth? Perhaps I can accept a compliment without immediately explaining why I do not deserve it. Perhaps I can be proud of something I worked hard for without needing to shrink it so that everyone else feels comfortable.

Perhaps I can bleed through my clothes and not feel ashamed of a body doing what it was designed to do. Perhaps I can say no without feeling like I have committed an offence. There is so much we have learned to perform in order to be good, acceptable, decent people but I wonder how much of that performance we are still required to carry.

Perhaps growing up is partly the courage to unlearn. To sift through the things we inherited and decide what still deserves a place in us. To realise that not everything that feels natural is innate; some things are simply well-rehearsed.

I want to become more honest about the things I enjoy, the things I am proud of, the things that hurt me and the things I no longer want to apologise for. Maybe humility does not require me to disappear, maybe kindness does not require me to abandon myself, what if celebrating myself does not make me vain, maybe after years of learning how to be who the world would approve of, there is something beautiful about finally asking: Who am I when I am no longer performing?

Until tomorrow, bye.