Born to Yap, Forced to Disassociate

Chapter 2: Loneliness is a Bitch and a Half

Mar 27, 2024

Sore Loser, Much?

I have beef with many things, as you’ll come to find out soon. And trivia night is high on that list.

It always seems like a good idea until the pressure mounts, and I end up leaving in tears—no joke, it just strikes a nerve with me. My mind goes blank under the pressure, and I've accepted that. It's simply not my cup of tea (and yes, I am a sore loser).

During this particular trivia night, my team wasn't doing too hot, but I wasn't upset! (#growth) No tantrum in sight, or so I thought. Despite my efforts, my voice, soft and prone to cracking under pressure, couldn't pierce through the noise. An all-too-familiar feeling washed over me, tears welling in my eyes, throat tightening. Ah...cue the emotional shutdown in 3-2-1. Aight, I'm out.

In that moment, I was overwhelmed with feelings of loneliness I've been avoiding for so long. Admitting I'm lonely is hard, so it usually takes an incident like this, typically insignificant, to unleash all the pent-up emotions. Despite being surrounded by amazing people most of my life, I've never shaken off this pervasive sense of loneliness and invisibility that's haunted me since childhood.

Reflecting on my past, I realized that my sense of loneliness has been a recurring theme, manifesting in various forms throughout my life. And when these feelings surface, I tend to rationalize rather than fully experience them. Yet, in moments like these, when logic gives way to emotion, I'm forced to face feelings I've long buried.

Lying here at 2 a.m. (yes, I am a shell of a human right now), I recognized that this isn't just an personal struggle I face; it's indicative of a broader societal problem.

You hear it everywhere. The loneliness epidemic. In an age where we are more connected than ever through technology, we find ourselves increasingly disconnected from each other and, importantly, from ourselves.

And if we can't connect with ourselves, how can we hope to form meaningful connections with others?

So, it’s time for me to roll-up my sleeves and dive into my long-standing battle with loneliness and see what’s under the hood. Hoping that sharing my story helps you and anyone else in your life feel seen for their battles and offer a bit of solace in our shared experience.

So let’s tell loneliness to…

Kick Rocks with Open Toed Shoes

For so long, I equated my loneliness to my dating life woes. Doesn't everyone? But my first major encounter with loneliness didn't stem from a silly boy; it was born from a desire to be accepted and seen by my high school peers.

Growing up, I never felt like the prettiest, most desirable, or even the most approachable girl in school. Wearing the hijab, I felt deeply ostracized by my classmates. Growing up in the South post-9/11 presented its own set of challenges. The scarcity of Muslim, specifically hijabi girls, in our town subjected me and my family to stares and sometimes outright hostility. Despite these challenges, I refused to be defeated. Instead, I strived to prove I was more than my hijab and religion by immersing myself in various clubs and social activities, aiming to bridge the gap between myself and my classmates.

Despite my efforts, a persistent sense of disconnection remained. I was part of the "in-crowd," yet consistently the last to know about the latest gossip or events. This exclusion was often justified by my peers' assumptions that my religious beliefs might prevent me from participating in certain conversations. It was a frustrating realization that, no matter how hard I tried, I was still seen through a singular lens, reducing my identity to just my religious attire (note - my resentment was towards my peers and not my religion)

I'll never forget the feeling I had during my high school graduation, filled with resentment towards everyone and everything that reminded me of that school, for making me feel insignificant and reducing my value to a single aspect of my identity. As I grabbed my diploma and walked out the door without looking back, I hoped I'd never see any of them again and that they'd one day experience a fraction of what they made me feel.

Well I’ll be Damned!

Post-high school, I made the personal decision to remove my hijab. This choice wasn't really about my religious beliefs; rather, it was an attempt to alleviate the sadness and loneliness I felt, driven by a desire for acceptance and visibility among my peers (..I wish I could give 18 year old Manhad a hug rn)

Removing the hijab did open some doors that had previously been closed to me, allowing me to form connections with people who saw and cared for me as I am. (again, solely a personal reason and not religious reason). However, this change also brought new challenges, especially when I started college. Being at a predominantly white institution (PWI) introduced me to a set of alienating experiences I hadn't anticipated.

My blackness, something I had never thought to question growing up in Atlanta, suddenly became a focal point of discussion. Comments about my appearance and the way I spoke highlighted an uncomfortable reality: I was often seen as too much of one thing and not enough of another, leaving me to navigate a complex web of social dynamics that further underscored my feelings of isolation.

Despite these difficulties, my college years became a time of profound personal growth and discovery. It was during this period that I began to truly understand and express who I am, finally meeting the person I had longed to reveal to the world. I found my tribe, a group of friends who accepted and loved me for my authentic self, helping to restore the confidence that had been chipped away over time.

My college graduation marked a significant redemption moment, surrounded by those dear to me, celebrating our shared experiences and the journey we had undertaken together. It was a moment of immense pride, finally coming out of my shell and being able to shine so brightly. Being surrounded by so many people who I am still close with to this day. Celebrating and cherishing all those moments we made and had with one another.

It’s Not You, It’s…Actually nvm, It’s You.

Cue to boy drama and woes…

Post-graduation, I found myself navigating the complex world of dating and dating apps at a time when they were becoming the norm for meeting new people. Despite the plethora of (shitty) options like Tinder, Bumble, and Hinge (my personal hell), the experience often left me feeling lonelier than ever.

The cycle of going on numerous dates, trying to be everything I thought they wanted me to be, was exhausting. Molding myself to each date, pretending to like the things they did in hopes they'd like me back, and being the chill, cool girl who didn't care about being ghosted or being the only one making an effort—all while making excuses for their poor behavior and overanalyzing every interaction—led to a profound sense of unworthiness.

I constantly asked myself, "What the hell is wrong with me?" and "Why am I never enough?" This cycle of endless adapting and conforming in hopes of finding a spark of connection only ended in meeting someone who shattered my heart completely (would never wish this heartbreak on my worst enemy)

Driven to my breaking point, I finally decided to seek therapy, ditching my tarot cards, in search of real answers to my loneliness and self-doubt. And boy, did it change my life forever (I <3 therapy)

Therapy revealed that my core issue was a struggle with vulnerability (I was GAGGED). At the time, I didn’t agree with her one bit. I felt I was an open book to everyone but I wanted to see where she was going with this so I listened.

To my surprise, I discovered that being vulnerable isn't just about sharing the parts of ourselves we're comfortable with. It's about openly expressing our true feelings, thoughts, desires, and fears, allowing ourselves to be authentically seen by others. It involves taking the risk of being honest about our emotions and experiences, even when faced with the possibility of misunderstanding, rejection, or judgment.

I had come to realize that I had been wearing the THICCCest mask for most of my life, completely out of touch with my inner self (so much to say here but will put a pin in it for now and revisit)

Through therapy, I learned that vulnerability is a powerful foundation for building deep, meaningful connections because it fosters trust, empathy, and intimacy. When we're vulnerable, we invite others into our inner world, paving the way for mutual understanding and a shared sense of humanity. It's about being present and intentional in our relationships, not just to feel less alone but to build genuine connections and grow together. Ultimately, embracing the full spectrum of human experience and being vulnerable is crucial for our growth, relationships, and pursuit of authenticity.

In unpacking these feelings, I realized that connections are not merely about companionship; they're vehicles for self-love and discovery. Celebrating our victories with others, no matter how small, helps ground us and remind us of our journey and growth. These moments of connection and celebration make us feel seen and valued.

As I navigated these revelations, I couldn’t help but see how our society has strayed from the essence of connection. Maybe Kim K was right all along…

People Really Don’t Want to Work Anymore

This isn't just about laziness; it's about our aversion to discomfort. It’s about how we've come to prioritize “protecting our peace” and setting boundaries to such an extent that we might be isolating ourselves at the first sign of discomfort. It’s the lack of effort put in relationships, and our pursuit of quick fixes all contribute to a collective state of disconnection We prioritize convenience over depth, leading to a world where apathy often overshadows empathy and genuine care.

We play a numbers game, treating relationships as disposable rather than investing in them. This avoidant culture has led to a paradoxical situation where we're focused so much on ourselves that we neglect the needs and feelings of others. These mechanisms, while important for our well-being, shouldn't prevent us from experiencing new connections and emotions. Our lives have become about seeking the next big thing without appreciating the present moment.

This avoidance extends to our daily lives, where convenience and quick fixes are prioritized over genuine human interaction and engagement. We live in a fast-paced world, seeking the next big thing without appreciating the present moment. This lifestyle hinders our ability to form meaningful relationships, which require patience, understanding, and care. We've become focused on superficial goals, chasing wealth and status, neglecting the importance of what we put into our bodies and how we live our lives.

Yet, despite these challenges, connections are vital. They're what make us feel alive, breaking the monotony of daily life and offering us moments of joy and understanding. I hold onto the belief that we can redefine our approach to connections. Forming genuine relationships requires effort, care, patience, and a willingness to be vulnerable.

To counteract this, we must strive for intentionality in our interactions, making an effort to understand and care for others. This involves listening actively, reaching out with thoughtful gestures, and trying to see beyond the surface. Such actions foster deeper connections, allowing us to understand and appreciate the essence of those around us. Through these connections, we can begin to feel seen, heard, and valued for who we truly are.

It's about more than just protecting our peace; it's about actively caring for others and allowing ourselves to be cared for in return.

Were You Silent or Were You SILENCED?

At the core of it all lies a profound truth: meaningful connections shape the very essence of our lives. Loneliness isn't just a fleeting emotion; it's a potent call to action, urging us to forge genuine bonds with ourselves and those around us.

Upon reflection, it becomes clear that my loneliness that night was a symptom of a deep need to be genuinely seen and cared for by those closest to me. Despite enduring challenging times, I emerged stronger, with newfound confidence and self-love. My light, my flame, burning brighter and stronger than ever. I wasn't seeking external validation but rather being bale to share my personal victories authentically—an acknowledgment of my resilience and growth

I tend to suffer in silence (something I am working on) and am self-reliant (somewhat to a fault). I've come to understand that being cared for means having someone to share and celebrate victories, thoughts, and insights with—a safe space for self-expression and mutual understanding. And that genuine companionship—rooted in empathy, understanding, and vulnerability—bridges the gap between solitude and authentic connection.

Whether it's sharing victories during trivial game nights or engaging in broader life experiences, a little tender loving care can make a monumental difference in combating loneliness and fostering meaningful relationships.

However, our pursuit of healing may hinder us when we become overly self-focused, believing our actions hold little significance for others. Shifting our perspective from self-centeredness to caring for others is essential, recognizing that intentional living is found in authentic connections with ourselves and those around us.

When we extend empathy and support to others, we create a ripple effect of positivity that enriches not only our lives but also the lives of those we touch.

All We Need is some TLC

..also understanding, patience, vulnerability. You get the point though.

As we navigate life's challenges, it becomes clear that overcoming loneliness and fostering meaningful connections require us to embrace vulnerability and invest in genuine relationships. By openly and authentically sharing our experiences, we create spaces for understanding, compassion, and growth. Let's remember that meaningful connections form the foundation of our humanity. By offering kindness, empathy, and support to one another, we can bridge the disconnect we feel and cultivate a world where everyone feels valued and included.

So, let's recognize the transformative power of tender loving care in building connections and belonging, even amidst the everyday challenges of life.

A sprinkle of TLC from and for each other can truly work wonders. Even during trivia nights ;)

NOW, to my favorite part!!