Kexi Week 3 - Thin Walls
When I was younger, I found comfort in listening to the muffled voices of my parents’ conversations from another room.
The walls were thin before—back in my old house in Sunnyvale—so eavesdropping was usual for the ears of a child like mine. I’d lie awake just to listen to my parents’ chatter from the other side of the wall, prattling about their peculiar coworkers, financial matters that sounded like a chain of unintelligible babble, or even their opposing opinions on the new release of the iPhone 5.
As I grew up, I found myself often seeking the sounds of voices wherever I went. Listening to these conversations felt like I was a part of them. I realized I could learn just as much from listening as from talking.
However, the comfort of the muffled conversations from the other room soon became a bitter reminder of my changing reality; my parents’ unserious and harmless conversations about the new iPhone 5 turned into constant arguing and hurtful comments. Don’t get me wrong—I love my parents, but I hate the upsetting number of times I sat on top of those stairs to hear each word they said behind my back.
I took each quality they and other people spoke of as the truth. If they said I was lazy, then I must be a lazy person. If they said I was careless, then I must be a careless person. I became a collection of how others perceived me, and as I continued to allow it to define who I was, I started to lose myself.
For a long time, I had struggled to understand who I really was. Eventually, I came to the realization that the insults that hurt the most were those targeting traits I was unsure about. If I knew I was kind, and someone called me mean, then it would have no effect on me. If someone called me lazy, and I knew I was lazy, then they were just telling me something I already knew. It was when I came to this understanding that, little by little, I started to build my own identity and define my own traits, both good and bad.
Obviously, unlearning years of internalizing other people’s opinions doesn’t happen overnight. Voices will continue to carry through walls, and people will continue to express their opinions. But I’ve decided: I am going to be the speaker of my own story!
As I grew up, I found myself often seeking the sounds of voices wherever I went. Listening to these conversations felt like I was a part of them. I realized I could learn just as much from listening as from talking.
However, the comfort of the muffled conversations from the other room soon became a bitter reminder of my changing reality; my parents’ unserious and harmless conversations about the new iPhone 5 turned into constant arguing and hurtful comments. Don’t get me wrong—I love my parents, but I hate the upsetting number of times I sat on top of those stairs to hear each word they said behind my back.
I took each quality they and other people spoke of as the truth. If they said I was lazy, then I must be a lazy person. If they said I was careless, then I must be a careless person. I became a collection of how others perceived me, and as I continued to allow it to define who I was, I started to lose myself.
For a long time, I had struggled to understand who I really was. Eventually, I came to the realization that the insults that hurt the most were those targeting traits I was unsure about. If I knew I was kind, and someone called me mean, then it would have no effect on me. If someone called me lazy, and I knew I was lazy, then they were just telling me something I already knew. It was when I came to this understanding that, little by little, I started to build my own identity and define my own traits, both good and bad.
Obviously, unlearning years of internalizing other people’s opinions doesn’t happen overnight. Voices will continue to carry through walls, and people will continue to express their opinions. But I’ve decided: I am going to be the speaker of my own story!
Hi Kexi! I love how insightful your post is! When I read the title, I expected an analysis of a movie or a piece of literature. Upon reading, I realized that your post was a profound reflection on how easily the human brain is influenced.
ReplyDeleteJust like you, I would listen to my parents’ conversations through the walls—especially when I was supposed to be asleep! It was a comforting part of my nighttime routine and became second nature to me. And, as independent as I’d like to be, I still seek validation through others. As a result, I also take others’ opinions seriously; my parents’ words have the most weight, though. Their words were the truth, so if they said my work was award-worthy, it had to be. Similarly, every critique from them hit the hardest. Even though I knew their harmless conversations could hurt me, I continued to eavesdrop, the same way you sat on your steps to listen. Though I have learned to have more faith in my abilities, I still rely on their judgement.
However, your realization is critical: we accept others’ opinions when we are insecure about those traits. It’s necessary to note that others’ comments also influence new insecurities. When outside perspectives dictate my thinking, it is easy for them to convince me that I am not enough. Though this habit is not ideal for my self-confidence, it is a difficult one to break. But, as you say, we should be the speakers of our own stories.
Thank you for being vulnerable and sharing this, Kexi. Topics like self doubt and insecurity can be hard to talk about, but I feel that you encapsulated this feeling very well in your blog. I definitely relate to this more than you know, and I know what it feels like to have your parents criticize things about yourself. It can often feel discouraging, especially since they are the people who know you best. I also remember times where I would sit in my room and hear their words coming from downstairs in the kitchen. They would critique almost everything I did, which felt discouraging, especially since I believed I was trying my best. As time went on, I would also let others’ words affect how I perceived myself, because honestly, I am a very sensitive person. But as I grew older, I realized that words can only affect me if I let them.
ReplyDeleteNow, as a teenager, I still face insecurities like anyone else, but I’ve acknowledged that someone’s words can only hurt me if I let them get under my skin. I am now so much more confident in who I am as a person, that when someone tries to break me down, I still know who I am. This has been very powerful for me, as I can now protect myself and not allow the words of other people to hurt me. I think this is an important trait to build, but it takes time, along with years and years of getting to know yourself. As I like to say, you should build a relationship with yourself, and that will save you from many pains in your life.
Hi Kexi! I really enjoyed reading your post be I think a lot of us can relate to letting other people's opinions affect how we perceive ourselves. I especially liked when you said that you became "a collection how others perceived me" that really stood out to me because it shows how easily we are able to believe things about ourselves just because we hear them over and over again. I also agree that when people make hateful comments targeted specifically at your insecurities. I also relate to your childhood habit of listening to your parents because I also used to do this. I knew that my parents loved me but it still deeply affected me.
ReplyDeleteNevertheless, now I'm able to have a identity of my own and feel confident to know that other people's opinions about me are they're problem more than it is mine. I still do feel insecure or doubt myself from time to time, but I'm able to differentiate between the fact and opinion in the situation.
Hi Kexi! I want you to know that I really feel for this topic. My parents too can be quite insensitive as they never seems to understand I can their whole conversations across the house. My dad also smokes a lot which causes a lot of tantrums and arguing for what to me seems like trivial matters. This often resulted in fighting between parents; both physically and verbally, physical abuse; although it has stopped in recent years, and a lot of awkward car rides.
ReplyDeleteThere was also a time of similar identity issues you mentioned in your blog. For example, I often cried a lot when I was younger, maybe 9-11 range, I honestly don't remember, and my parents would often tease or bully, I'm not sure which it constituted as, me for being too "girl-ly" and make fun of any excuses I make for my crying. At one point my mom even said these things to my doctor which was like a slap to my face. From these experiences I could never really tell what kind of traits I had, was I strong? Weak? Smart? Dumb? Spoiled? A Crybaby? Needed anger management?
Eventually what pushed me through was actually the internet. The internet eventually taught me that these comments don't really matter, that everything should be taken with a grain of salt and aren't always true, even from those we love. I've learned to separate criticism from comments like these with had really helped with my metal health like you mentioned.
I want to thank you for being so vulnerable, for sharing this experience. This has been really inspiring as I'm now thinking of writing of a personal experience not related to my pets. This has also made me realize there are others much closer than I think who share similar experiences; that I may be much more justified in these experiences then I may have originally thought.