Identity and Living a Life of Apology

Perhaps it's just me. Perhaps mine is a solo sickness, a unique illness. But I doubt it. I doubt it because I've listened to enough conversations, seen enough struggle to realize that the lifestyle of living as if sorry to be alive is a pandemic. It's the sort where you walk into a room, breathe, and immediately apologize for it. Apologize for intruding, taking up space, wasting the oxygen of the more important people surrounding you. For making a joke. That was stupid. What a waste, you think. For not being as pretty as her. For being prettier than her. Weighing too much. Weighing too little. For singing like an angel. For singing off-key. For being anything more or less than static, than a monotone buzz on the frequency of everyone else's radio. I find this apologetic state is rooted mainly in fear, even terror. Terror of not meeting the expectation. Whose? Peers, professors, parents. Anyone whose opinion is given absurdly gargantuan and undeserved weight. I could blame society. Many do. It is easier to blame a "they" than a "me", isn't it? "They" do this to me. And we pick apart "their" conduct like jurors examine a culprit marching up to the witness stand. We don't realize that the ultimate Judge lies inside. The constant criticism, unfair expectation, and refusal to be really, truly happy has ugly root in our own hearts, not in the heart of any "they" in existence. The wild imaginings that all eyes are picking me apart are false. And yet. Yet. There is more to this. The idea of trying to meet certain expectations, and living in fear directly correlates to the notion of identity. Identity. Our attempt to nail down the essence of who a person is. We take personality tests, develop clothing styles, choose favorites (favorite colors, songs, celebrities, movies, books, vacation spots), pay thousands of dollars to specialize in a single field, and then accept shallow labels like "bubbly", "sarcastic", "silly", and "logical" as part of our innate nature. Perhaps this strange compulsion to apologize arises when we think we've stepped out of the boundaries of these labels. Or discover that one cannot, (and should not) be "bubbly" every hour of every day. I know that I am romantic. But that doesn't mean I am not also severely pessimistic. I discover that being "logical" does not remediate this strange desire to dance like a deranged monkey in front of my three year-old nephew. I can spill beautiful words onto a page, concoct pretty sentences, and inspire audiences with my manner of articulation, but I also think gibberish and cursing can be more expressive and enjoyable than anything Hemingway said on his best day. My heart pounds with delight and my breath quickens when I step foot into a Catholic church, but I can be irreverent, too. I cry over PETA videos one day and eat foie gras the next. Because I am not limited to one identity. Because identity is fluid. It cannot be stagnant, nor predictable. We should toss out labels like moldy bread. Feel free to kick someone in the shins if they call you a "kind" person. Or laugh if "they" say you're morose. Or make farting noises with your arm if they dare call you "elegant". Because while "their" intentions may be perfectly nice, they are laying a trap wherein you feel inclined to apologize for turning out to be anything but what's expected. Dare to fluctuate. Dare to accept where you are today. It doesn't mean that you shouldn't set goals. Or that you shouldn't reach for your highest potential. It doesn't mean you should defy everyone's high expectations by becoming a permanent fixture on the couch forever, but it does mean you should feel free to take a nap there if necessary. What was said yesterday doesn't have to become a prediction for all of your tomorrows. Stand proud in the imperfect you today. In the you that isn't fully developed or finessed. The final product of you doesn't exist on this earth. So, what are you apologizing for? And the ugly voice inside that constricts your lungs, that prevents a full inhale-exhale when you walk into the room? Feel free to laugh heartily at him. Write him off. Ignore his very existence. And he will become smaller. This new lifestyle requires practice. A practice that must be very conscious and deliberate. It's turning the spoon away from the mouth of insatiable Insecurity to the deserving mouth of Acceptance. As I write this, I find myself breathing in and out, fully. Completely. And I realize that it's been too long since I've done this. Allowed my lungs to expand to their fullest potential. Breathing fully is the natural requirement of laughter. I'm sure this is the next step. Laughing with less question and more ease. Laughter is, after all, the ultimate defiance of life's curveballs and the last thing anyone would expect in the midst of crisis. May as well get used to the laugh lines now. :)