The art of being yourself

Yesterday while in the car, I was tempted to play my playlist. The first choice was Taylor Swift’s Red album. But since it’s been two weeks non stop that I’ve been playing it, I hesitated on letting my relatives hear it. I felt like it was too girly for them (Yes, I consider the taste of my listeners before playing anything. One characteristic of mine is to consider others, all the good and the bad that comes with that characteristic, throw them all in here) and besides, I’ve been listening to Red for 14 days straight! It’s like I know no other artists aside from her. Seriously! I love that album that much!

But after playing Treacherous for a few seconds, I decided to play a different playlist which consists of various underground artists. This is the playlist I use while driving. And it made me feel comfortable when my Papa suddenly tapped the dashboard of the car to the beat of one of the songs.

Looking back into what I did yesterday, I feel ashamed not for being too girly, that is, overly listening to Taylor Swift but letting my relatives listen to it, too. Don’t get me wrong because I love Taylor Swift so much that I bring her songs to the shower and sing like there’s no tomorrow. It’s just that, I feel that it’s not the kind of artist my Lola and Papa would love to hear. You know, generation gap. But I guess the main reason was, actually, I don’t like people taking a peek into my vulnerability. And that’s just what Taylor Swift is to me. She’s my vulnerable side –the one I’m hiding to people, the one I share only to my friends. She has the lyrics that sings my heart, the one whom I want to unselfishly share and selfishly keep, at the same time.

A friend said I am pretentious for acting like that. But I guess I just really don’t want everyone to see my vulnerability. If there’s something I hate about myself, it is when people see me weak and get wasted because the truth is, I’m having a really difficult time climbing back up.

So I just don’t share my vulnerability to everyone. Only a few.

And the hardest thing about this incident was realizing that I need to learn how to accept myself so others would have to do nothing but to accept it, too.

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About Shayne Zalameda

Shayne Zalameda is Misstache. She adores eating, traveling, attending events, and watching films. She likes to omit adjectives and is fascinated with ironies. As much as possible, she tries to avoid the word "very". Sometimes she easily forget things. More on http://LeMisstache.com
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