September 22, 2004 Journal
August 15, 2008
catesbool
If life is as I believe a becoming, then every part of my past is a part of my present and-is becoming a part of my future. How, from millions of remembered moments shall I select those bits and pieces which represent my life? At best, it will be a mere fragment but which fragment? How do I choose to be remembered by those who know me least or most?
- The Unbearable Lightness of Being,
Milan Kundera
When I was at my sophomore year at UP, I was branded as the bitch whom almost everyone dreaded talking to. I was known for my very sharp and sarcastic tongue, my absolutely fiery temper, and my lack of compunction in saying what I think about people and their bullshit views. I had liked the prestige of being called The Bitch. People are intimidated by me and rare are those who would want to get as close to me personally as possible. Back then, I could count the number of friends I had with my fingers.
The summer of 1995 brought forth a spring of change from the bitch that I had chosen to be at that time. I worked at the Presidential Management Staff where I met Mr. Paul Nolivienne Ermitaño, a cold-blooded rational who was my intellectual superior. I pretty much minded my own business while I was working there. I went to the office, did what was expected of me, talked to my computer as much as possible to the exclusion of almost everyone else.
One day, I was swearing so loudly at my 486 computer for its inept slowness when out of the blue, Nolivienne remarked over my head, “You know you’re one fu___ up bitch.” I was so surprised at the remark I looked him squarely in the eye in the hope that he’ll wilt and just shut his mouth up and leave me be. Being of the character that he is, he gave me this sweet but sarcastic smile and nonchalantly continued talking as if I wasn’t there, asking me, “I wonder why?” Irritated at having a person trying to look through my soul, and discomfited by the thought that he was picking through my brain, I sweetly told him between my gritted teeth to shut the f___ up.
He gave me a jeer. He looked right through my bitchy veneer and he started to poke at my wall to no end. Eventually, he was able to see through the person that I really was, discovered a lot of my fear and insecurities, even my pains and my burdens. He disregarded the persona that I had let the world to see and settled for no less than the person that I had for so long wished a lot of persons to see. He became the rarest person who has managed to read my thoughts out loud and sense my riotous emotions even before I had expressed all of them.
I have not encountered a lot of people who would try to exhibit the same patience and effort to pierce through a person’s wall as he had done. A lot of people have tried, including my brother and the friends I chose to retain over the past ten years. But not one of them has succeeded as well as Noli had in knowing me inside and out, to the point that he can easily predict the exact words that would come out of my mouth.
He listened, bullied and perplexed me, probed my mind until even I had to give up myself because of his untiring and unrelentless efforts at cracking me up.
Sometimes, we let other people see what we only want them to see about us. Although we wish they would see through the mask, we are also afraid to let them in and see the real person behind the mask because we are afraid that we might be subject to rejection. Sometimes, too, there are other reasons why we choose to let other people remain behind the other sides of our walls. Sometimes, our instincts just tell us that we ought not to let another person come too close because it would simply end in hurt of some sort to ourselves.
That’s what I felt when Noli was trying to crack me. But what Noli told me during that summer made a lot of sense to me too. If I wish other people to know who is the real me, I must take the risk of unmasking myself and revealing myself to the world. “Reveal yourself to the world and the world will reveal itself to you.” Noli has made me take a lot of risks in letting other people see me as I am and not as the bitch I wanted them to see.
I only have a handful of people who I can really declare as my real friends. Through all my failures and my successes as a person, they have remained within the ambit of close personal relations and understood me enough to respect the wisdom (or the lack of it) of my decisions and actions. A lot of times, too, I found myself hurt and tossed back like a rejected vegetable because the person I have made the risk of getting too close ended up betraying me one way or another. But these people did not succeed in letting me lose my faith and my hope that there will other be Noliviennes out there who have enough empathy in their bones to let go of their own preconceived notions about who I am and how I am as person as to simply let me just be.
Sometimes, all it takes to find another Nolivienne is to simply be ourselves then let the other person see and listen to the person that we really are.
(This is something that should be reserved for Testimonies section. I pasted it here when I found it again today because I knew this kind of journal deserve more space to give it justice. It was made all the more meaningful by Mec, who is having his birthday today and he was asking me about certain aspects of life and we got around into a short discussion about how we want the world to see us.
I had been lucky Noli saw all the good and the bad sides of me and still accepted me for who I was back then. I am luckier still because he was patient enough to help me in the process of my "reformation." I still have my jagged edges and I can still be cutting every now and then. But hey, perfection is not attained overnight.
And yes, I am trying to pass it on… There are lots like me out there who needs assistance when they ask for it…)
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