The art of feeling inferior

To feel is an art and seldom do we get it right.-Damini

Right from the day we are born, it is the world around us that tells us what attributes we have. What's good, what's bad, what needs improvement etc, is decided by other people around us,including our parents. 

All throughout our lives,our thoughts, feelings and beliefs are governed by these individuals, who by some power have the authority to determine who we are. 

Oh! She doesn't talk too much but he talks a lot! He isn't as fair as him but he's not as intelligent as him. You should be more outgoing, while you should be a little less and so on and so forth. 

By the time we grow up and embrace our reality, we realise that we haven't really grown up as fully functional beings. Rather, we are fragmented versions of ourselves;waiting for the world to put the pieces together so that we can make sense of ourselves. 

Constantly basing our judgments about our own sleeves, on the basis of those very people who are nothing more than fragments themselves.

Then  how does their world view come to encompass our very own? Despite having our own language, why do we hang on to their every word and wish to speak the same like a parrot? 

At the heart of every human being lies one simple wish - to be loved and accepted by the ones around us so that we can feel safe and secure in that very world, that fragmented our souls and left us to find the pieces and join them in some disconnected manner. 

And in the end, when half of our lives have gone by, we realize that we did everything except love ourselves. 

We ran behind everyone except ourselves. 

We were so busy making others happy, trying to live up to their utopian ideals of perfection, that we lost track of who we wanted to be. 

After feeling apologetic for simply being the way we were designed from the start, we didn't know who we were
What was left behind ,was just a fragmented version of ourselves where parts of us started seeming like  wholes.

Only if we could learn in time that the only love we need is the love that we have for ourselves, we wouldn't be the fragments we realise we are. 

Only if we could learn,that what we feel for ourselves is also an art.We can decide what we want to paint,the colors we want to use and whether to cherish what we have made of ourselves or simply start again.

We would still be flawed but at least we would be complete and in love with ourselves. And only then, we would truly embark on a journey taking us closer and closer to who we are truly meant to be - flawed and in love. 




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