Photo by Aliaksei Lepik on Unsplash
In the past, I’ve bemoaned the lack of warmth people have. Maybe it’s a capital city thing, but the level of hyper-independence makes it nigh on impossible to have a sustained relationship with anyone. People are too emotionally unavailable, or too busy doing their own thing.
Fast forward to more recent times, I’ve seemingly turned into the person I complain about. In the last week, I had numerous people come up to me to say they recognise me. My response has often been a blank and puzzled stare. At least I’ve gotten practice in trying to ask ‘ who are you?’ in a somewhat polite way.
Last weekend I came across someone who paused silently when they saw me. I had no idea who they were, so I essentially just ignored them. They had to stop me to say that we’ve met before. Turns out we had a coffee some years ago. I tried to make a feigned apology that I barely remember yesterday, let alone a few years ago. My attempts failed, and they looked somewhat offended. Oops.
I end up meeting people from a lot of different walks of life, meaning I gather a world of acquaintances. Due to the sheer number, I tend to forget people unless they have had a particularly distinct impression upon me.
But people seem to remember me. I guess people seem to remember my, well, distinctiveness, even if they don’t remark upon it at the time. I’ve also stayed in Brussels long enough now that I’m starting to loop around in seeing people again, even if it is several years later.
This places me in a rather strange role in life. I feel like I am oft the observer looking in. I can bring unique perspectives into a group, but I will never be a part of it. It is both enriching and lonely.
Accepting this societal role has taken time. I’ve spent many years trying to be open and forthright with people, but probably have ended up coming off intense rather than amicable. I also seemingly have what people describe as an intimidating aura. I used to get somewhat depressed by this, particularly when I craved people’s love and affection.
But now I feel like I might as well lean into it. I’ve decided that I have officially entered my aura farming era. People are scared of me? Good, they should be. Folk aren’t able to place me? That’s because my existence is beyond their understanding.
Playing into the role makes it a lot more fun. I can play with it, tongue-in-cheek. It also feels easier, it’s like I am going along with where I logically fit in the world. No longer am I trying to compete on how extroverted or energetic I am compared to other people.
I spend time with people, but I am far more guarded with my time and energy than I was before. It means that I can preserve my inner sanctity and independence, whilst also being authentic in public spaces. If I spend too long in a certain space, I can feel it gnawing away at me.
I can’t help but find some funny irony. In an attempt to fit in, I’ve ended up taking up a persona that is distant from people. I am doing what society wants of me, which is to push society away. It is as coherent as it is parodoxical.
But there’s also a sense of calmness and clarity that comes. It’s a lot easier to navigate the world when you know what your position is.