a taylor swift song

an introduction! wow! who am I!

today’s question I want to answer in my personal diary series thing is “how would you describe your personality” because who doesn’t love talking about themselves.

In acronyms and analogies, I’m the ENTJ who seemingly rules the world with “brilliance” and “confidence”. I’m Slytherin who is not quite self-obsessed as much as “putting myself first”. I’m a Sagittarius who works alone and may quite possibly outlive everyone on a desert island because I don’t need human interaction. Debatably (assuming I carry the will to live), but you get the point.

My favorite word to describe myself is “wallflower”. If I had to compare myself to a fictional character, it would be Bianca from The Duff novel, who supports deconstructing societal norms (also, I’m a massive supporter of the “friends with benefits” ideology or, at the very least, sleeping with someone you may not be “dating”). I observing everything and absorb nothing. My mind is open and I try to understand different viewpoints (unless, of course, it hurts another person or just supports a system built by old white dudes for old white dudes).

I don’t know. I don’t want to be perfect, but I want to be somewhat like a normal person. I want to have friends and go out and laugh and do stupid shit and just be like a person. Instead I feel like I’m wearing a suit made of bubble-wrap and watching the world happen through someone else. I’m living but I’m not alive. My personality consists of traits of your basic rom-com female lead: kind, stubborn, doe-eyed, innocent, youthful, you get the gist. If I could, for a second, be someone, anyone else, I would. I feel stuck in one of the rooms in an asylum where they feed me through a crack in the wall and put blocks on my hands. When I look in mirrors, I see someone else. I don’t know who I am and I feel like, at this point, I should have some general idea.

I’m pieces of the stars and the earth and everything in between. My personality is ever-shifting from bright tulips in Spring to the firewood ambers in Winter. I wish I had control, but I wish I didn’t need control.

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