What’s it like being a stoical pragmatist?

I’d like to call myself emotionally stronger and more practical compared to most other girls I know. I don’t cry easy, I’m not very emotional or mawkish.

I have this admirable trait of not being influenced by others and taking decisions independently and rationally. Well, a majority of them at least. I’m pretty headstrong and hard-headed. My family thinks I’m devoid of emotions and empathy. People sometimes perceive me as someone with a perpetual cynical disposition. That’s not all true.

I also have alpha male tendencies sometimes. I’ve always felt the need to protect meek people from eternally shallow persons called bullies. In middle school, I’d strive to protect the simple girls from fiendish, self-centered barbies whose life’s purpose was ridiculing persons weaker to them.

I don’t cry often. I stifle my tears because I hate people seeing me cry. I’m quite the stoic. Self-pity and wallowing aren’t my thing.

I face difficult situations just like everyone else. I hate being weak, I take it upon myself to improve the situation instead of treading the traditional path of having break downs, talking to people about it and seeking help. I know it’s not a good thing, it’s just intrinsically wired. I’d like to be vulnerable sometimes but I just don’t seem to get myself to be.

Yet I can be pretty affable sometimes. I vociferously love my friends and family. I honestly do. I never show it but I love those knuckleheads and I’d break bones to protect the ones I love.

I’m probably the only teenager who has this weird maternal instinct towards the world, I always feel like the responsible one. I take it upon myself to take care and defend the people I love because I feel they aren’t qualified enough to take care of themselves.

I’m also the ‘knock some sense into me because I’m making stupid decisions’ therapist friend. The one who people come to gain an astute perspective for life. I’m the one who people come to hear the truth because I’ll easily blurt my brutally honest opinion. I’d burst their bubble in seconds. I’d frankly tell someone if I thought his hopes and dreams were delusional. I know! What kind of a monster am I?

People assume that some god awful tragedy has caused me to be this way and probably I was some sugary, delightful schoolgirl who believed in unicorns riding over rainbows before it. But no, that’s not the case. This has pretty much been my inherent nature. It’s not some great tragedy or life changing experience or a jarring breakup which has caused me to be this way. It’s just how I’ve always been.

This demeanour has various flipsides. People assume I don’t require even an ounce of support, that I can always handle myself. Well, of course I can handle myself but offering a hand once in a while wouldn’t be so bad. People assume I’m ruthless; that I can take any obstacle life throws at me and survive unscathed. That’s the most flawed assumption. Just because I’m strong doesn’t mean I’m invincible. Life is as hard for me as it is for you. I just cry behind closed doors unlike the other way round.

But on the whole, it’s pretty awesome. I slay tragedies like warriors. I don’t go astray easily because my brain’s skeptic nerve is always on full alert. I’m not going to let anything hold me down and you shouldn’t either.

To all the ones who’ve felt this way or feel this way every day, remember you are your own army and you are doing great. However, it’s okay to be vulnerable sometimes and use other shoulders to cry. It’s okay to have weak moments, you don’t need to be the rock always. It’s okay to scream and squall out the pain. It’s okay to be insane. It’s okay to be irrational. It’s okay to loosen up. It’s all okay as long as you’re happy.