When the World Changes You and You can't Tell Anyone.
by Liv | Published on November 12th, 2009, 10:10 am | Life
So we're catching our brother up on Torchwood here at headquarters, and he seemed to like it. There's one poignant scene from series one where the character Gwen states:All these things.... All these things, they're changing me. Changing how I see the world. And I can't share them with anyone.
Made me really think. In this show (for those who don't watch....<shame on you>) she's referring to how her life on her job has changed her. How she sees her relationship with her family (her husband Rhys) developing a rift because she's becoming a different person.
I identify with this a lot. I am a far different person than I was just a few years ago. I'm unrecognizable to myself the person that I was just 10 years ago. Sometimes I have a difficult time talking with family and old friends because they expect me to be this person who sees the world a certain way. Sometimes I do feel trapped.
I'm lucky in that my partner, Shannon, has grown with me. Rather then becoming two entirely different people dis-similar to those people we were when we first met, our journey has brought us to nearly the same point at the same time. In that I have consolation. But, how odd is it to find yourself in the comfort of your own family with a lack of words to explain what you've seen and what you've done. The pain, the joy, the sacrifice that's made you who you are. We all change, we all go through it, but some us do it at such a bitterly, slow pace that the idea of metamorphosis seems foreign. To think that there are people I know who could be literally be replaced by their former versions of themselves without anyone questioning, frightens me. I want to scream, I want to yell, I want to shake them and say "This is all you can imagine for yourself?" This is when, in my hypothetical situation they turn and look at me like I'm mad. Like I'm some fictional soothsayer and they must go grab their Bibles and their crucifixes and begin praying. They begin asking questions like "Are you mad?", "Are you crazy?" They begin saying "Them", "They", and all I can think about is it's "Us" and "We".... and then the question comes.... as if it's been there the whole time, lurking in their heads.... "You wouldn't want to be like them, would you?" Be different? Be weird? Be unique? Yes, I do. I am, and there's nothing you can do about it.... because I'm no longer like you, I'm one of them.
...This is followed by a deep bellowed evil laugh.....
