We spend the most part of our short lives trying to discover and define who we are. We are socialised into accepting for trite that the ritual of self-knowledge or discovery is a compulsory passage of rite. That me knowing I, and you knowing You is a matter of course. But it really isn’t.
The truth is, we only feel the need to know who we are when the world tries so hard to explain the things we do and why we do them. Those psyche analyses piss me off to no end! Think about it…if society did not make it expected for us to have explanations for everything about us, there would be no need to self-know. I know that, Prima Facie, knowing oneself seems like a fantastic idea. Like it will improve your life. Like giving context to yourself will somehow explain your life, your decisions, your behavior, etc. and even maybe illuminate your future. That would make life much easier, wouldn’t it?
Now am sure all of us have engaged in this self-knowing nonsense at some point, at a certain level. Tell me it has helped. Tell me it has made life any better. Sometimes it looks like it has, but when you really think about it, it hasn’t. Whatever good that has happened, has happened because life happens. And sometimes when life happens, good things happen too. And these good things happen because I and You make them happen. Because I and You is really what life is made of. Notwithstanding the type of TV show you watched as a child!
We are so desperate to escape accountability for our lives that we want to self-know and find a blame spot. Oh hold up, you thought by knowing yourself you take responsibility for you? No! You don’t! You only take a victim’s share of responsibility. Somehow all self-knowledge makes us a victim of circumstances, and that somehow cushions our failures and bad manners. To be fair it also sometimes takes away credit for our successes. It makes us too lazy to be the life that we are, and we resign our beings to said circumstances.
Here is my point, we do things because we do them. I will be a bitch because you pissed me off, or because I have a temper, or because I just don’t like you, or because fundamentally, I am just a monumental bitch. Not because my parents got a divorce when I was 6. I can’t convincingly argue this away, maybe I need several doctorates to do so, but oh well…stop hiding behind social constructs to explain your being. Take the blame. Take the credit. I, You did that shit. I, You kicked that quality ass in that tournament. Not the teacher that beat you continuously in kindergarten. I understand the biological/natural influences, not the socially constructed ones. Societal events do not define I or You. I define I. You define You.
So stop fretting. I am who I am. You are who you are. I am who I want to be. You are who You want to be. And I, You…is just fine the way I, You is.