Often, as writers we try to encompass our audience into the story, or poem or whatever it is we may be writing. On this occasion, this post is purely about me. Emily Marie, and my fucked up quest for validation.
My whole life has been one masochistic quest for validation and acceptance. From group to group, my outfits changed, my persona changed, my stories changed, my life and attitude changed. Now, some of these changes have been hugely beneficial, they have created who I am today (although I still have no idea who that is) for good and definitely for bad. On a larger note, this changes have just created chaos and puzzlement for those around me. Those, who have stuck around long enough to witness my changes. From group to group the want to fit in has been so tangible it’s like a ticket that says: Congratulations you finally fit in!. Clearly, that ticket never appeared. Chasing acceptance and validation is chasing an elusive ghost. Glimpses here and there but nothing solid. Solidarity is something I have sought out since I can remember though I am probably the least solid person I or anyone else, has ever known.
In the past few months, my life has been in utter upheaval and I have been really trying to dig deep and find who I am. Which by the way is no easy feat. I will say, I am working on validating myself. Maybe one day, I’ll create a post detailing the nitty gritty liaisons and encounters I found myself ensnared in, on my question for validation.