All The Things I Love | Pt. 1

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The Beginning

To understand why individuality and self-expression became such important themes for me, we have to go back to my childhood.

As a young child, I was loud, playful, and full of energy. I laughed too hard, played too much, got into trouble with friends, and even became such a class clown that my teacher once had to remove me from the room during a test because I was making everyone laugh too much. Back then, I was in Haiti—my birth country.

But over time, my personality began to fade. The biggest shift happened when my family moved to the U.S. when I was nine. I didn’t speak the language, and suddenly, I felt like an outsider. I became quieter, more anxious. I dreaded class discussions and barely spoke at all.

After school, I would go home and disappear into books and TV. Even at home, I felt alone. My dad was always at work, and my other family members had already formed their own groups—whether among the kids or the adults. So, I read. I watched TV. Years passed, and even now, I struggle to recall any core childhood memories beyond that feeling of isolation. Sometimes, I was with my sister, but we were both so young. Despite her presence, the loneliness never really left me.

By middle school, I had learned the language and made a few friends. But by then, the internet had also taken hold of me, and I became a toxic, cringeworthy pre-teen. A pattern started to form—one that I still recognize in myself sometimes. I had no real sense of self, only a desperate need to be liked. I absorbed the personalities of the people around me, adopting their interests, their behaviors, their likes and dislikes. I was a shell of a person, constantly mirroring others just to fit in.

Maybe this was normal for that age, but something about it felt… empty. Looking back, other than music and drawing, I can’t remember a single thing I genuinely loved for myself. I was whoever I thought people wanted me to be. And that led me to become someone I’m still ashamed of having been.

But I was a child. And for that, I try—reluctantly—to give myself grace.

The Realization

I was 21 when I realized I had no personality of my own. I was attending a college I didn’t want to be in, studying something I couldn’t care less about, all because I was afraid of how my parents would react if I chose a different path. Every day, I would drive over an hour to school, pay for parking, find a spot, sigh—and then turn around and go back home.

After weeks of this miserable routine, I finally asked myself what I wanted to do with my life. And I couldn’t answer.

That day, I sat at my desk, school papers strewn carelessly beneath my fingers, and started asking myself questions. One by one, I came up blank.

Who are you?
What do you like?
Why do you give hugs when you hate the feeling of people touching you?
Why do you freeze up when it comes to defending yourself?
Why do you let people walk all over you?
Why do you agree with everything?
Why can’t you say no?
Why do you go to church when it makes you miserable?
Why do you go to school when it makes you miserable?
Why are you so clingy?
What are your values?
What matters to you?
Do you have boundaries?
What is your personality like?

I couldn’t answer a single one. At 21 years old, I sat there, stunned, and finally muttered to myself: Oh. So I don’t have an identity.

And then I sat in silence for an hour, dreadfully frozen.

The Attempt at Change

My first real attempt at taking control was when I told my parents I no longer believed in God. The misery I felt had gotten so unbearable that I told myself: If they can’t accept me as an atheist, then so be it. If it comes to a fight, if it comes to something worse—whatever happens, I will stand my ground. I will tell them how I feel. I will put my foot down and refuse to go to church with them.

…It went horribly. But that’s a story for another time.

Have you ever felt a gut feeling that something was wrong? That what you were doing wasn’t you, or wasn’t something you should be doing?

Even when I believed I had no identity, my body was warning me. That’s how I knew religion wasn’t for me. And that’s how I found the courage to tell what I considered to be the two most oppressive forces in my life that I would no longer obey just because they said so. I was choosing my sanity and my peace over their expectations.

After that, I started saying no more often. I was still a people-pleaser, but I was slowly recovering. I kept saying no, even when I was accused of being selfish. And that hurt—because for so long, I had given so much of myself to these people. And the moment I gained even a sliver of self-respect, they sought to break it.

But I kept going.

I didn’t just ask myself what I liked and disliked—I actively tried new things to find the answers. I met new people, dated, and started gaining a little confidence in myself.

I began taking inspiration from those around me—the ones who laughed loudly, even when they got stares; the ones who dressed how they wanted and lived fiercely, despite opposition.

I wanted to stop existing for others and start living for myself.

The Me That I Am Today

I’m now 24, and I still have a lot of work to do. I’m a hermit, but I’m slowly working on stepping out of my shell. I’m still quiet, but around the right people, I can talk their ears off. If someone doesn’t like me, it stings—but I’ve learned to move on.

My values? Do the right thing, even when no one is watching. Do the hard things, because that’s where real growth happens.

I’m more outspoken about how I feel about the world, but I also know when to log off and take a break when things get too overwhelming.

There’s so much more I could say, but honestly… I doubt anyone has even made it this far.

Why I Love Individuality and Self-expression

I love individuality and self-expression because there’s nothing more beautiful than seeing someone be their authentic self.

I know everyone says this, but we only get one life. And I spent most of mine as a blank slate—absorbing everything others fed me, never having anything to truly call my own.

I love self-expression because I dream of being someone who proudly wears who I am and never budges an inch.

I want to dance freely in front of the person I love without my crippling anxiety ruining the moment.

I love these things because I seek to practice them every day. I seek to become my own person—to express myself fully, unapologetically.

– Leynie