The Residents of Boxes
Our lives weighed down by our identities and labels
The world is made of countless boxes. We have stuffed inside it the day we come into this world. Some people get luxurious boxes with room to maneuver and have a say in shaping their lives. Others are less fortunate. It makes it easier for the world to see us and judge us based on our box. After all, it’s so difficult to know the person inside the box.
Our nationality, religion, parents, privilege, and countless other factors form the box that dictates our lives.
As I passed through my life, the box kept changing as I got labeled, sometimes it became grand and uplifting with a lot of space, yet sometimes it became so small that it could be hard to breathe. The box gave me security from the outside, I could always take solace inside it, but I couldn’t help but wonder what its cost was?
The Ever-Changing Box
I remembered being called “Smart” in my childhood; it was a label gotten due to the success of my parents. Yet, I was very attached to it. Being recognized as bright was something I cared about, and I did my best to protect it. I wanted to decorate my box with these various grand labels I received from the folks around me.
Though the pain was excruciating when I wasn’t the smartest kid around, people started questioning if I was worthy, and some even went ahead and said I was a disappointment for my parents. Those words hurt me a lot, and I felt my entire world had collapsed. It became hard to see the light of hope outside of my tiny box. I could only see countless giant boxes around me.
And the cycle continued; some of my success would again make things better, but it wouldn’t last long. It seemed like I was on a hedonic treadmill forever stuck on the same spot.
The Box Called “Self”
While I received a lot of labels and titles around me, I was responsible for letting them get to me and putting a box around my image of myself.
More than the external one, the box we put around ourselves inside is more dangerous. I thought the box was there to protect me, but it only took things away. Even if there was someone next to me, it was hard to open up and bond. I feared tearing it down and exposing myself.
I got lulled into the false security of the box and tried finding people who had similar constraints, believing that they would understand my situation. God, I was so wrong about that.
Majority of my life, I was trying to connect with those around me, but I was my biggest enemy. I sabotaged all my efforts to enjoy the comfort of my cage.
Destroying the Box
At some point in my life, I decided to leave the comforts of my box. The identities I had made for myself, I chose to give them away.
It was pretty scary. The comforts of our box are enticing. We as a species know that it’s better to band together instead of venturing alone. Yet, there is no other way if you want to see the world without colored lenses.
The payoff is tremendous, though. When the weight of your box and labels go away, you live your life on your terms, and when you meet someone else, you see the human within the box.
Change is always challenging to make. Sometimes though, you want to hide away in your box again. After all, it’s always easier to fall back to things we are used to instead of plowing on.
Of course, people around you follow and live according to the identity that has been carved out for them. Yet, always remember while we don’t have a choice in getting into a box, but it was us who allowed ourselves to stay put, and we can always get out of it.
Life isn’t as hopeless as we make it out to be. It simply is.
