Between The Squiggles

Day 9 of writing-something-random-just-to-see-if-I-can-do-it-without-getting-self-conscious

I spent 30 minutes writing about why I felt cringed out about something that I ordinarily don’t cringe out about. Because mind you, I’m not the kind of person who finds everything embarrassing just because it’s not dipped in sarcasm. I genuinely appreciate sincerity. I also tried to unpack the whole psychology of cringe, the layers behind it, the disconnects, the inauthenticity… all of that.

Only to arrive at the most annoyingly simple truth: I cringed or rather felt uneasy about something because I just don’t like the person who did the thing.

That’s it.

This person’s eyes welled up during an emotional scene from The Last of Us, and one glance at them made me uneasy. Ever since I’ve been going in circles trying to figure out why, because, honestly, I love it when people show raw emotion. Unabashed vulnerability is something I usually admire. In fact, normally, I’m someone who would feel compelled – maybe even instinctively driven – to offer emotional support. That’s a skill I’ve seemed to comparatively grown really well in my recent years. But what do you do when it’s someone you don’t like?

That instinct just doesn’t show up. It’s not even resistance. Its absence.

Empathy, in a few cases atleast, isn’t automatic. No matter how much work you’ve done to be kind or emotionally present, if there’s no real connection, that part of you would probably want to stay silent.

So that gap – between the response I expected from myself and the cold quiet I actually felt – that’s what made me squirm.

That’s all.

What am I even rambling on about? Thanks for reading this.