For years and years people would tell me this and it would make me panic inside. I hadn’t any idea where to start. There was nothing inside I could call “me”… I managed to fake things here and there… sometimes to fake them long enough to make it a habit, and these habits became what I called me.
Now (after all of the work, the therapy, the medication, the examining, the changes, etcetera), I finally have a framework, and even a bare-bones idea of who I am. Finally “just be yourself” doesn’t terrify me. Its still in process but its like finally being in color after a life lived in black and white.
(via bigfatdeal)