There were times when I thought I need to be understood. And to be understood means I need someone else to do the favor for me, to try to understand me.
For them to understand me means, they need to accept me completely the way I am. Although it was almost an impossible task, maybe they actually did. Maybe they accepted me completely the way I am and understood me.
But then, did I understand myself as much as they understood me?
Another thing was, aren't the things about me that they accepted completely and understood about, were only the things that I allowed them, too?
Just because what they understood about me was not the way I really was or the way I wished them to, doesn't mean they didn't understand me.
Maybe they did understand me the way I let them to. Maybe it was me who couldn't really understand myself and fooled myself of being wanted to be understood.
The same rules applied; to be understood and accepted completely the way I want them to, means I have to be open and expose my thoughts to them.
Now, the real question was; did I really want to do that? The answer was a crystal clear no.
I knew by then that I don't need to be understood. And later, I knew that people's opinion of me, no matter how good or bad, and no matter how close they are to me, are basically irrelevant and unrelated to my life, unless I let them to be.
I did, however, realize that my real need was to express. Expressing certain thoughts and particular emotions that I felt into words or artworks made them tangible and real. And unless something is real to me, I neither will know how to deal with it, nor that I would spend my time and energy into it.
So, whenever I experienced complicated emotions or in need to process of some thoughts, I know I need to express it to straightened and clear them out from me.
To express, and not to be understood, cause the only person who needs to understand me is ME.
Old writings that I found on my scattered pieces. Still very related tho, and a good reminder.