Maddie and Coach have been giving me a pretty hard time about my being aggressive. Granted, I know where it’s coming from, it’s not unreasonable, still there are ways and ways to tell people things.

I undoubtedly have problems with the idea of not being liked, especially by men, but I keep it for myself. It’s sad and sounds pathetic, so I just don’t talk about it, not in a serious way, not in a way that would let people understand how much this really hurts me. I complain sometimes that no body ever wants to sex with me or just talk about how I don’t get pursued, approached or chat-up by random guys and Maddie’s answer is that I must somehow repel at people, even unconsciously.

She maintains she used to be like me and nobody ever looked her way either (now, I don’t know how far back this goes, but I don’t find that much evidence of this in what she told me of her past) then she changed her attitude, started smiling to everyone, started acting like a bimbo, playing with guys as if she were constantly amazed by them and everyone magically began buzzing around.

I get it, I do, but I have serious problems with this. I have grown up in a society where everyone dispensed fake smiles just to stab you in the back, where you were only evaluated and rated from your appearance, where values didn’t exist and the facade was the only thing that mattered. I decided I didn’t want anything to do with such a world. I decided I wanted to be true, to be honest, to give truth and substance a value and rejected anything vain, superficial and esthetic. I decided I didn’t want to play the social game of not doing anything that wasn’t proper just because others would have thought it was unbecoming.

The idea of discarding these values that I created for myself is a sin. I accept the idea of trying to be sweeter, I don’t accept the idea of a fake smile, I loathe the pretending, I am disgusted by the idea of diminishing your own intelligence for the sake of… what exactly? One more smile from an imbecile who likes to entertain himself with a brainless doll?

I used to have another problem, which by the way is far from being solved: I am shy. As anyone suffering from more or less severe insecurity issues, I tend not to be confident of my feelings, of my persona in general, I don’t come off strong. And I was taught that this is wrong, that you can’t let your feelings show, that you have to pretend to be immune from any sort of undermining. This idea is so deep-rooted inside of me, that it has become a habit. I built a fortress around me which accurately covers any soft spot. I look like concrete, while my insides are… marshmallow.

So yeah, my being aggressive is a mask, one I have nonetheless chosen for myself, because I am not ashamed of being the girl able to tell it as it is, who cracks dirty jokes and makes everybody laugh. I like this, because it is true, because I do not fall victim of hypocrisy and pseudo-catholic respectability.

And sure, men don’t like it. Because their masculinity feels undermined, because they still expect a girl to be sweet and stupid and vain. Oh I have come a long way. At least now I value the idea of feeling beautiful and indulge in a little vanity instead of dressing up like a hobo just to prove my point.

My point being: I don’t want someone close to me minding only the surface. I like the idea of someone willing to dig the surface to find the marshmallow.

So yes, I have a very thick armor, but that doesn’t mean I do not possess a heart. You wear an armor not because you are a thick-skinned monster but because you are made of tender, weak and delicate tissue. The more sensitive the core, the more defenseless the creature, the harder the shell.

Each and every single time people point out something about me is wrong I am hurt. Because I can’t accept the idea of not being perfect, the idea of being wrong. Because when you are insecure and unconfident, just a single word can throw you in despair, and I’ve been hearing this a lot lately.

And the thing that hurt me more is that after all, after all my insecurity, my doubts, my self-loathing, in the end I like myself and the good qualities I have, because I have shaped them around the values I like and feel mine. It’s just… it looks like so few people in the world adopted the same values that I have no alternative than being alone. I feel like a dinosaur on the brink of extinction. 

I don’t like the fact that I have to change in order to be liked by others, because I can’t help wondering who would like me in the end if I renounced my values. I can’t help wondering who would others like if I put up a mask of someone that I am not; they wouldn’t like me anyway, they would still like only the mask and would run as soon as I decided to drop it. Some special someone may be willing to look behind it, but I guess the kind of people that I like would be much more interested to look behind a monster mask than behind a doll mask.

Then again, I am not sure I could change, even if I wanted to. In the greater picture, the ghosts that hurt me most are not these, eradicating my so-called aggressiveness would not cure my feelings of being rejected. If I need to make an effort to change, I would not address these issues, because real issues lie elsewhere.

And it pains me that coach can’t really see that he is not helping me, as he claims, but he is really just hurting me and reminding me how incompatible we are. It makes me shake my head to see how he’s not even considering that he may hurt my feelings. When you get to meet and know someone you have two options: you can accept them for who they are, with their virtues and flaws or you can decide you want nothing to do with them because their flaws exceed their virtues. I don’t feel accepted by him. I know he appreciated some things about me, may be just my dedication to the sport, but it feels like he wants to change me and not for my own good but because in his mental image of the perfect world, I am an abomination.

I may need to learn how to break the walls, take off the armor and show some of my weaker spots with no shame and a little less fear, I may benefit from smoothing a few edges, I may want to stop turning to aggressiveness to cover up my insecurity, but I won’t trust so lightly someone telling me to change my ways, just because they are uncomfortable around me.

I don’t believe in soul mates. I refuse to believe that there is one person out there who is perfect for me, simply because I hope there are many more, maybe just a little bit less perfect. I want to believe there are a number of people who could give me a lot in at a given moment in my life. I want to believe there are more chances, because just one would be too little for me to find.  Truth is, it seems to me there are so few people out there who would even only consider me ad a viable person, that the idea that more than one person could love me exactly for what I am is ridiculous. But I’m afraid, I wouldn’t settle for anything different anyway.

This is why I need to learn to live my life alone and give myself anything that I need. Because that someone just may not exist.