So here I am, sitting in my living room, after having just got into a mood and feeling embarrassed by my behaviour towards a friend. I am just about to carry on my Netflix Gilmore Girls marathon, when I decide to check my Facebook news feed quickly. I come across a long Humans of New York (HONY) post that I couldn’t be bothered to finish earlier, and go ahead and read it all.
Being a big HONY fan already, I’m not surprised to find that I like this post. Especially this last bit:
“When someone called me a hero, I wanted to prove them right. When someone called me a devil, I wanted to prove them wrong. It took a lot of self-examination to realize that I was neither. There is a fullness to a person that is gigantic and nuanced and indefinable. It was equally impossible to be a hero or a devil. I couldn’t be contained by a single word.”
I love the last line because it is something that I am slowly learning, something I find quite challenging to get my head around. Grey. Not black and white. Grey. This always reminds me of Martin Luther King Jr. – the whole him being an amazing man despite cheating on his wife. Yes it is wrong to cheat, but does that make him a bad man? He has done more good in his lifetime than most people put together. Who knows. Who’s to judge. Not me. (Cue J. Cole rapping about this in Sideline Story and She Knows).
I tend to get defensive when someone labels me as something I don’t quite feel fits me. Even if they are right about me at that moment. It is even more frustrating when I try to explain why they are wrong, by using other labels which also do not fit me. Hypocritically, I love it when people describe me in a way which I love. My relatives always remind me that I was ‘cheeky’ as a kid, and to be honest, it makes me kinda proud of mini me. Then again, I know that I wasn’t just cheeky, I was also stubborn and sensitive. But I was also much more that that. And still am. So is every single other person in the world.
Some things just cannot be put into words. It’s a certain essence we all possess. Some sort of energy. I sometimes wish I was better with words, because then I could pinpoint exactly how I feel, or communicate exactly what I mean. Other times, I feel words are not enough.
Just a thought..
P.S. I don’t know how old anyone reading this is, but J. Cole isn’t really suitable for youngsters ! Just a heads up.