Saturday, November 10, 2012

Rebelling + Versace

My mum bought me a Versace belt today. My first reaction was, "Why did you buy it? You know I'm not going to wear it!"

That's right. I said that, out loud.

Right after I said it, I froze, because I'd heard myself, and I hadn't liked what I'd heard. I sounded inconsiderate and immature, and I needed to grow up.

You see, I had made this pact with myself a few years ago: that I would live outside the consumerism that was eating at our society by not concerning myself with brands and labels and the like.

Wearing a belt with a 'Versace' buckle would be a glaring contradiction to said pact, and that was the reason for my initial reaction.

Wearing a Versace belt would be like... conforming. 

Let me tell you a little story. There was someone, up until a few months ago, that was very special to me.

Late at night, there was one thing that we would sometimes talk about.

I had, have, this burning desire to be different. To shine. To rise above the mediocre, the norm, and make a name for myself. To rebel. 

This is very important to me, and I would tell this someone all about that. All my fears and worries, my decisions and desires. I would outline all the ways I had decided would define my very being, and would aid me in my attempt at being different.

This person understood. One of the only ones who understood.

I changed, this year. I had an epiphany. One that made me realize that once I know that I am different from within, I do not need to keep proving it to everyone. I could be myself, a rebel by nature, without doing it for a reason... Because I'd done what I'd set out to be: I'd proven to myself that I was different - And your own opinion is the only one that matters.

So I settled into a comfortable state of not-giving-a-shit. I broke a few of the pacts I'd made, a few one my non-conformist ones, because I'd thought, hey, I already know that i am definitely not a conformist, so what harm would it be to ease some of the effort I put into not adhering to regular social requirements? This worked out well for me, because I could relax and, to put it bluntly, not give a shit.

This person I spoke about earlier, though? Not happy. My newfound laid-back attitude was misunderstood for conformism, and I was shunned faster than you could say kimhatesthis. Of course, I had far too much ego to go to this person and correct this misunderstanding, so I let nature take it's course. I let him believe I'd changed. I let him show his disappointment on his face, every time he looked at me. I let him tell me I was a disappointment, with cold, harsh words that cut through places in me I'd hoped were invincible. I didn't argue with him, because I was tired. I was tired of defending myself, and I was tired of feeling like a disappointment, so i gave up, and I let him go. (And go, he did.)

To know that he was disappointed in me, had lost respect for me? The worst pain imaginable. I'd stopped wanting anything from him but respect. Sometimes I think I didn't convey that to him effectively. He always thought I was looking for something else; I was too afraid to use the word 'respect', and so my intentions were never really conveyed.

In any case, i digress. It's too late now, for me to right the wrongs of the past. What's done is done, and my relationship with him can never be rekindled.

That respect I sought, and once used to have, however? That still haunts me at night.

I DON'T KNOW WHY IT MATTERS TO ME. I dont know how this respect I speak of would affect my life in any way. He's not even in my life. His opinion shouldn't be worth a penny. His respect shouldn't the driving force to self-satisfaction, but still....

It was the need for this very respect that caused me to blanch at the thought of wearing the Versace belt. The 'pact' of not wearing designer? It was my strongest one. Back when him and I were at our highest point, he would wonder why I did not wear designer and I would fight, yes, fight, for my 'cause'. It gave me some sort of joy to rebel, actually. I had no 'cause'. I was just being selfish. Everyone was wearing designer, so I wouldn't.

So you see: how could I wear it now? I know what he'd think. He'd take one look at the belt, and think "Oh yes, she'd conforming again." and then he'd, while genuinely not caring, walk away, and I'd lose a little more of his respect.

While I can spend the rest of my life without him and feel no misery at all, while I can watch him suffer and not blink an eye, (for I have grown so cold towards him) - I cannot shake the desire for him to understand that I am not conforming. Somehow, it's a way for me to reassure myself that I am not conforming. Besides, he was the first one in my life to understand my reasons behind it; how can he be the one who thinks I am?


I will wear the belt.

It may look like I am conforming. The world may think I am conforming, but I know that I will wear it because I love my mum, and because it is a beautiful belt, and because I know that no matter what, I will always be a rebel. 

No comments:

Post a Comment