a study of the self

Hello.

Sometimes I find myself wondering why it is so difficult to simply be honest with myself.

At times, it feels as though I am moving through the world behind a transparent veil. I can still see through it, and others can still see me, yet I never quite feel fully exposed, fully seen, fully myself. What am I afraid of?

I know I am not alone in this. Perhaps that is why I found the courage to share these thoughts in the first place.

When people tell me, “I love how easy it is to talk to you,” or “You understand me so well,” I thank them. And I mean it. Yet part of me wonders if they realize that I, too, have adjusted myself. I have softened certain edges, rearranged certain parts, and shaped myself into someone they can feel comfortable around.

And then I wonder: who am I if I am always adapting? Or am I somehow everything beneath it all? What does it even mean to be yourself? Who truly is?

I cannot help but think that if every person were completely and unapologetically themselves, the world might dissolve into chaos. And perhaps it is that very thought that keeps me holding on. Perhaps it is why being myself feels so difficult, or why giving myself permission to be feels even harder. Because somewhere inside me lives the belief that if I let go, chaos will follow. Chaos within me. Chaos around me.

Sometimes I imagine that if I were to let this veil fall, something frightening would be waiting underneath. Something ugly. A monster. Or perhaps nothing frightening at all. Perhaps what I fear losing is myself.

As long as I keep the veil in place, I can maintain a sense of control. I can influence how I am perceived. I can increase my chances of “being accepted”. But if the mask falls, I do not know what happens next.

And am I alone in this? I do not think so.

In fact, I often imagine that most people are carrying their own transparent veil, moving through life in much the same way. Sometimes I even wonder if all of us are. And perhaps, secretly, the game is not about removing it. Perhaps it is only about who can keep it in place the longest.

Yet I cannot stop thinking about what it would feel like to finally let it fall. To release the mask. To lay down the veil. To stop holding it up. And then I wonder: would I still be there? Am I the one standing behind it?

The truth is, I do not even know how something like that would happen. Do you?

Or is this simply another illusion? Another story the mind tells itself? Why does honesty feel so difficult? And is adaptation really dishonesty?

Sometimes it feels as though none of us are completely honest. As though we all know it. As though we recognize it in one another. And yet we continue, unable to stop. As if it has been woven into us. As if a small part of being human is learning how not to be fully ourselves.

There are entire books dedicated to teaching people how to be authentic. And yet I cannot help but wonder whether the people writing those books are still searching too. Because perhaps there is no final destination. Perhaps no one ever arrives completely.

Sometimes it feels as though letting the veil fall would be a kind of death. The death of a part of me. Or maybe the death of everything I have believed myself to be.

There is something strangely uncomfortable about the idea. Like metal scraping across a fingernail. That image appeared in my mind a moment ago, and somehow it feels accurate.

And maybe, beneath all of this, there is no single, true self waiting to be discovered. Maybe there is no hidden version of us buried underneath the layers.

Maybe the self is not one thing at all. Maybe it is a collection. A gathering of experiences, contradictions, fears, desires, memories, and becoming. And perhaps all of it together is what we are.

A few questions I’m still sitting with.

Questions I want to continue writing about, reflecting on, and exploring through journaling as I become more aware of the stories, beliefs, and patterns that shape how I move through the world:

• Which parts of myself feel most natural, and which parts feel rehearsed?

• When I adapt to others, am I betraying myself, or simply connecting?

• What am I afraid would happen if I stopped managing how I am perceived?

• Do I hide parts of myself because I fear rejection, or because I fear what I might discover?

• Is authenticity the absence of masks, or the awareness of them?

• Which version of myself am I trying hardest to protect?

• What would happen if I stopped trying to be myself?

• Is there a true self beneath all the layers, or am I the layers too?

As I thought more deeply about this subject, I decided to meditate on it.

My favorite form of meditation is intuitive, formless art.

This is what emerged from it.

I found myself thinking about what it means to meet yourself somewhere beneath all the layers and to let the veil fall. I thought about the pain that has been held onto, the fear, the worries, but most of all, the uncertainty.

I have to be honest, I painted in the dark.

Because of that, I could not properly see all of the colors. It kept getting darker outside, and I did not even notice. It was only near the end that I suddenly realized I could barely see the colors anymore.

The only color I could still clearly see was white.

White has always represented light in my life, and I find myself returning to it again and again, trying to bring it back into everything I create.

If you are interested in purchasing the original artwork, please feel free to contact me at: contact@raniagebagi.com

With Love

Rania🤍