As I sit here in a trendy cafe in part of the city I never visit, sipping on my black coffee, I can't help but look around at all of the trendy, laptop bound patrons and wonder about what exactly it is that they are all doing.
These are individuals with their own thoughts, hopes, dreams, struggles, angels, and demons. I'm thinking to myself, as I sometimes do in these types of circumstances: "Oh no! What if these people see me and somehow psychically know that I'm a broke person?! Then they'll know my secret, that I'm not like them..."
It's an embarrassing thing to admit to thinking, but I suppose it's been sort of haunting me for most of my life. Growing up my mother was pretty great at keeping up appearances, but the truth is that most of the time we were hanging on by a thread, especially through my high school years.
Amongst my friends from middle and upper middle class families I was the one who was perpetually broke. I didn't have a car, or cash in my pocket to go out to eat. I was of course forbidden from getting a job and riding the bus to get there - that would break the image my mother was desperate to present to the world. In her mind allowing me to get a job and help support the family would be a personal failure. I don't judge or blame her, but the fact remains that this problem started there and continues to follow me to this day.
At one point I did insist on getting a job. This was when I was at home but going to college. Despite everything I just couldn't shake this broke-ness. The money went towards my classes and supplies, and admittedly what little was left went to as much of a social life as I could afford. I suppose in some ways we get what we fear in that our fear creates actions that often lead to that exact outcome (or something worse).
Well after that I sort of washed out of college, not really knowing what I wanted or needed to do but feeling strongly that that wasn't the right direction. It seemed like school was the opposite of what I needed, with its emphasis on conformity and obedience. I just couldn't bring myself to sign up for that for the rest of my life.
At the same time, school is most definitely still the number one way to change your financial conditions, educate yourself freely and gain status within our society.
That is, until the blockchain. Until Steemit.
But lest this post descend yet again into blockchain or Steemit worship let us once again return to our original topic which was, seemingly, other people in cafes but was, truthfully, other people.
You see, just as I do, these people sitting here have their own insecurities. There aren't any overweight people here, but that doesn't mean there aren't people here that are really insecure about the way they look (or even their weight). I am not at all insecure about that. So while I may empathize, that person's feelings don't make any sense to me.
Which brings me, as always, to the truth: none of these people could give a flying fuck about how broke I am. Hell, it's the middle of the day on a Thursday. Most of these people are probably broke, too. It's just a silly insecurity I have that stems from my experiences when I was young and, as is the case with everyone, has followed me into adulthood.
And I do mean everyone.
If you don't think you have any ghosts it's just because you aren't aware of them yet. But ask your family and friends - they've probably seen it. Hell, they might have helped create it.
My point is that, no matter what your struggle is, no matter where your insecurity lies, whether it's with money, health or whatever, you have nothing to be ashamed of and it doesn't make you any less worthwhile or worthy. You're on your path resolving your journey. We go forward in our own ways. It's a road with many turns and no end and like all roads it must be taken moment by moment, day by day, step by step.
If having baggage is inevitable, then why add to that by having baggage about the baggage? Do the best you can, improve as much as possible, and don't be so hard on yourself. Because on long roads, it's best to pack light.
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