I never wanted to be a doll. Not in the way I mean here.
In this process of learning, striving, and struggling to understand the complex nature of human psychology, I am reminded of the phrase, “Some things are not common.” What one person believes to be a common rationale simply does not register with some people. And perhaps that is the most challenging part: learning to make peace with things that appear to lack logic.
Here I am, in my perfectly human experience, having these conversations with myself.
Moving With Purpose
Many of the articles I post stem from real-life occurrences, lessons, adventures, things to live by, and things that I am or have lived through. That requires a certain measure of vulnerability. However, vulnerability does not mean being devoid of respect, nor does it mean failing to be balanced in the relaying of an experience. They say there are always two sides to a story, and I agree. But I am here to authentically tell mine.
I Never Wanted to Be Someone’s Doll
As I was saying, I never wanted to be treated as a doll.
A few years ago, the feature film Barbie was released to much acclaim. Its narrative arc centered around Barbie setting out to solve a mystery, only to discover that the journey was ultimately about something much deeper: understanding her true purpose for existing.
The film’s central song captured that emotional core beautifully. Barbie wanted to fulfill a purpose beyond simply existing for the enjoyment of others. There was a desire to understand that she was more than what she had been created to be for someone else.
I never thought, in all my life, that I would understand what it feels like to be toyed with, to exist only within a specific space in time, only within someone else’s present tense.
It has confounded me to realize how possible it is for human beings to seemingly wipe another person’s existence from their mental framework once that person is no longer physically present.
How is that possible?
I cannot forget a person that easily. Especially someone who has made a significant impact on my life.
Yet I have had the misfortune of discovering what it feels like to only exist when I am needed, when I am seen, or when close proximity is required. Outside of that, the connection drops completely.
I am rendered no more than something sitting on a shelf, waiting to be taken down when the user wants comfort. Something to be dusted off when loneliness becomes deep and unforgiving.
And nothing is more painful.
I am human
I am not a plastic doll to be admired and only played with. I am not a soulless object that can be dressed up, accessorized, placed on a shelf, and taken down whenever someone needs a listening ear or a place to pour out their problems.
I am not hollow.
I am more.
When the Illusion Falls Away
Sometimes it takes time for the scales to fall from your eyes.
It is easy to buy into a myth when the attention you receive feels real. When someone takes you off the shelf, the interaction can seem genuine. The conversations feel meaningful. The connection feels alive.
But when you are placed back on the shelf, wondering when you will be taken down again, that uncertainty can become consuming and painful.
Some may say, “Well, you have low self-esteem.”
I say it is something different.
It is having expectations of humanity.
It is expecting that people with whom you have shared history, over a long and real stretch of time, will behave within the framework of what we understand human connection to be. It is expecting reciprocity. Consideration. Curiosity. Basic respect.
Illusions are the work of magicians.
“Out of sight, out of mind.”
Perhaps for some people, that really is how they operate. But that has never been how I understand human connection.
A person who understands the basic respect owed to another human being should be able to recognize that what they put into the world is often what they would hope to receive in return.
Life is teaching me that perhaps many people simply do not experience humanity the same way I do.
And maybe that is the part I have struggled most to accept.
No matter how much you try to understand someone else’s thought process, there are moments when you realize you may never truly understand it. Two people can occupy the same relationship, share the same history, and experience the same moments while assigning completely different meanings to them.
Perhaps some differences are not meant to be solved.
Perhaps they are simply meant to be recognized.
I Am Already Real
I am working on asserting my own realness by refusing to allow people I have presumably bonded with to put me on a shelf for safekeeping.
I am no Pinocchio wishing to become real.
I am real.
I have always been real.
That does not require validation.
What is necessary is learning to separate, as much as possible, from people who see you as less and therefore treat you as less.
There comes a point when understanding another person’s behavior becomes less important than understanding what their behavior is doing to you.
That is where the boundary has to be drawn.
Take Inventory
I hope everyone who reads this takes inventory of the way the people in your life deal with you.
Do they only call when they need something?
Do they run to tell you about their day, their adventures, their victories, and everything happening in their world, but rarely stop to ask about yours?
Do you cease to exist once you are no longer within their presence?
Do they only have time for you when they are free, lonely, hurting, or in need of something you provide?
Take note
You may be someone else’s doll on a shelf. A toy that exists only for their comfort, their convenience, their play, and their whims.
Don’t accept that.
You are not plastic.
You are flesh and bone.
You are specially made.
You are human.
You have thoughts, feelings, dreams, memories, experiences, and a life that exists whether someone chooses to acknowledge it or not.
You deserve care outside of the moments when it suits someone else’s needs or agenda.
You deserve to be remembered when you are not in the room.
You deserve to be asked how you are doing, not simply contacted when someone needs to unload how they are doing.
And most importantly, you deserve to remember who you are when someone else has forgotten to see you.
Remember what you were made for
You were never created to sit on someone else’s shelf, waiting to be taken down when you become useful again.
You were made to live.
