Armour

I remember showing up to my university campus on the first day, and feeling like I did not belong. Like a foreign object stuck in the human body, I felt as if my presence was not welcome, like the very institution of tertiary education was trying to eject me.

Around me I saw confident young men and women, excited to launch into their adult education and the careers or lives that awaited beyond. I saw fresh faces bonding and forming relationships, while I stood on the outside, my body paralysed and unable to emulate the social activities I saw in front of me. I was not like these other people. I felt fake, like an imposter. I felt as if I were a consolation prize, like I didn't deserve to be there. I wasn't like the people around me, they were ready for the intellectual and social precipice on which they were standing. I was a child, watching the adults talk at a party, but these adults had seen as many seasons as I had.

This fallacy in my mind, this emotional or psychological response to the stimulus in front of me, was like a physical road block. An impassable wall constructed by the anxiety and invalidation I was feeling. But this unscalable, imposing barrier was not physical. I had built it myself, in my own mind and psyche, through my feelings of worthlessness and insignificance. But I could not know this at the time. I was not prepared for my greatest challenge of my young life so far. Not university, no, but rather overcoming my own anxiety and past trauma in order to heal and move forward as a functioning member of society.

Of course, this is not a fictional tale where the hero overcomes the challenge through sheer will and the alignment of celestial bodies in the universe. Ultimately, these cracks in my psychological armour continued to break and left me defenceless against my own fallacies. I made mistakes, and took for granted the opportunities that were presented to me in my youth.

The idiom "hindsight is 20/20" has never felt so apt. With the benefit of experience and reflection, I know that I had no reason to feel this way. I had earned my way into the same position as my peers. I had undergone the same exams and assignments, had survived the psychological nightmare of adolescence and learned the necessary social skills to engage in intellectual conversation. However, what I was missing was confidence. Everyone has psychological armour that takes damage every single day, but those with confidence have armour that is more resilient, more capable of protecting its wearer from the blows of society.

Of course, as someone who is healing from their past trauma, I know that confidence comes from within, not any external source. I also know, that confidence only goes so far. It is the singular shared experience of humanity that suffering is inevitable. Some suffer more than others, but if you ask any person if they had experienced suffering, they would be able to recite any number of stories. Suffering is a challenge that all humans are capable of enduring, although some of us require additional tools and assistance to overcome.

As I prepare to make right the course of history, more than a decade later, I walk up to the figurative wall armed with tools and experience I lacked in the past. My armour, while cracked and showing wear, has the additional bands of protection that my newfound confidence has brought. I know that I am worthy, that I have earned the right to undertake this challenge just as much as anybody else. I also know, that I will stumble. I am not perfect, and I wouldn't want to someone who claimed otherwise. My trauma, the nightmares of my past, have made me a stronger person in the end. I am not the same scared child, feeling like they did not belong.

Bring on the next chapter.