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How Do You Think Others Perceive You?
Apr. 27th, 2006 11:18 pmWe had to go and muddle things up, didn't we? To go and take an observation or ten, and then add a liberal dose of the personal until we get perception. Some of us are better at it than others, of course. Which is the way of everything. But of course that's just me getting personal myself, and senseless all at the same time. It's something I know I have a knack for. Getting lost in a good ramble, trying to process and share too much at once, and not making sense to anyone but myself. But really I think that's the problem with other peoples' perceptions.
They never see the sense we make to ourselves.
No one, not really, never sees us for how we are, and how we want to be. Sometimes they get one, and sometimes the other. But both at once is so very, very hard. And probably not a fair request at all. Maybe the problem is centered in that how we see ourselves -- how I see myself, is distorted to begin with. Like the way a voice sounds in playback, on your first taped recording or an answering machine message. It can't possibly be you.
And yet to everyone else, it is exactly just that. You.
I think they still see me as weak. Or, if not that, then at least weaker than them. It's all degrees, after all, and levels. And not strong of mind, or strong of heart, or even strong of will. Because I think it's pretty well know that in most of those I give as good as I get. Or at least make the biggest of messes trying.
But I'm not strong. That's what they look at me, and see, I think. That's physically, I'm just not as strong. And that becomes something to be watched over, to be sheltered, and protected. Sometimes all and once and right out of doing my part. Doing what I -- why I stayed in the first place.
I want to be strong.
I think I am strong.
Or at least? Stronger than they think.
All that's just degrees too. I subtle shift in thoughts and words. But it is what's there, and what I feel. Not that people don't look at me and see more than just that, they do. And most of them I even agree with. They see and think things about who I am and how I grew up and what I think, or should think. How I love. Who I'll be later.
But that's not what sticks, and lingers. It's like listening to your voice all over again, for the first time. Your ears catch what's wrong, somehow. What is off. What you don't agree with.
The weakness always comes back. The way walls get built up around me by people who can't even say for sure how I'll open the door to get out. Or take it a step further, knowing just how I'll open that door. And then use that to keep me in. Once or twice the door's been held open for me though, if they knew it or not.
I like to think they did. They still do.
They never see the sense we make to ourselves.
No one, not really, never sees us for how we are, and how we want to be. Sometimes they get one, and sometimes the other. But both at once is so very, very hard. And probably not a fair request at all. Maybe the problem is centered in that how we see ourselves -- how I see myself, is distorted to begin with. Like the way a voice sounds in playback, on your first taped recording or an answering machine message. It can't possibly be you.
And yet to everyone else, it is exactly just that. You.
I think they still see me as weak. Or, if not that, then at least weaker than them. It's all degrees, after all, and levels. And not strong of mind, or strong of heart, or even strong of will. Because I think it's pretty well know that in most of those I give as good as I get. Or at least make the biggest of messes trying.
But I'm not strong. That's what they look at me, and see, I think. That's physically, I'm just not as strong. And that becomes something to be watched over, to be sheltered, and protected. Sometimes all and once and right out of doing my part. Doing what I -- why I stayed in the first place.
I want to be strong.
I think I am strong.
Or at least? Stronger than they think.
All that's just degrees too. I subtle shift in thoughts and words. But it is what's there, and what I feel. Not that people don't look at me and see more than just that, they do. And most of them I even agree with. They see and think things about who I am and how I grew up and what I think, or should think. How I love. Who I'll be later.
But that's not what sticks, and lingers. It's like listening to your voice all over again, for the first time. Your ears catch what's wrong, somehow. What is off. What you don't agree with.
The weakness always comes back. The way walls get built up around me by people who can't even say for sure how I'll open the door to get out. Or take it a step further, knowing just how I'll open that door. And then use that to keep me in. Once or twice the door's been held open for me though, if they knew it or not.
I like to think they did. They still do.
