On Independance

Something I’ve been wanting to write about for a while. Bit of a funny topic, but Lentmas would just be boring if I didn’t write about funny topics. Also I wrote this while watching the Brits, so if it’s a bit disjointed and blah blah blah blame my short attention span.

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I’ve always been a fiercely independant person. Growing up, I never had a best friend, singular – according to my Mum, the closest I ever got to a best friend in primary school was with a girl who had a different best friend of her own. I’ve always been what you’d call a ‘floater’ (hold all your poo jokes, please) in social situations: I hate the idea of a clique and will always make the effort to befriend as many people as I can. I hate the feeling of being tied down to a select group of people when there’s so many different personalities to get to know! As a result, I’m sure I come across to some as two-faced or superficial. Honestly, I just get a little bit claustrophobic in my relationships sometimes, I guess. There’ll be a psychologist somewhere who would *love* to pick my brains, hearing that. I love all the friends I surround myself with and everything they’ve done and continue to do for me, but that goes without saying.

I’ve also never had a real, serious relationship. Hand-holding in Year 8 doesn’t count, funnily enough. Seeing the vast majority of my friends from school and college grow up and find themselves find their person, if you know what I mean, has been weird for me. All along I’ve just assumed things will fall into place and that I shouldn’t be getting antsy, but it’s hard not to sometimes! I’m sure if you’re in the same boat as me you’ll know what I’m on about.

At every opportunity I’m looking to prove myself – to love interests, friends old and new, lecturers and employers – and I’m not sure whether this attitude precedes my independance or is preceded by it. A bit like the classic ‘what came first, the chicken or the egg?’ question. (I know it’s the egg, it’s got to be the egg, but whether the egg is my independance or my disposition is still up for debate).

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Having been this way for 21 years, nearly 22, I do secretly worry sometimes that I’m going to find great difficulty in changing. I’ve gone through so much in my short little life by myself (by which I mean, without a ‘person’). I’ve managed 12 GCSEs, 3 A Levels, 3 jobs and a degree. I’ve been through fallouts, losing my Dad and dealing with my Mum’s troubles without ‘a person’ – and I’ve done it all myself. I don’t know how to share ‘me’. I don’t know how to give up personal space. I can’t text back for shit, and I sure as hell don’t have the money to be buying a significant other £300 worth of presents every birthday and Christmas. How do you all do it?

When finalising the arrangements for my Dad’s funeral, I remember excitedly telling my Mum that I was so happy and grateful to have people there who were there just for me, for once, and that really struck a chord with her. It’s lonely being me sometimes. That being said, though, while I envy people who have that closeness, and I’m sure it ‘feels like warm’ to be that way with someone (romantically or not), I’ve become so used to my default ‘cope’ setting that I’m not sure I wouldn’t find it smothering.

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Not really sure what my point is with this one. Just know if you’re in the same weird independance limbo, you’re not alone and it’s not weird. I don’t think.

Until tomorrow,

Emma x

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One thought on “On Independance

  1. Pingback: BEDIM, day 3: Looking out for #1 – Emma Robyn, 2.0

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