Raspberry Iced M

I’m one of those people who can’t just make a mistake once and learn from it. I like to make the same choice 4 or 5 times just to make sure it’s a mistake.

And because of that, I’ve been defined by a pattern of those mistakes.

It takes three murders to earn someone the title of “Serial Killer.”

So by that standard, I’m a “Serial” lot of things.

And one of the hardest parts of changing isn’t the work itself.

It’s what comes after. It’s realizing that there are people who tally up my repeated mistakes and allow them to equal my character. And since I’ve failed at making changes many times before – because I put a band-aid on the core issues instead of actually digging deeper – there are people who still see me the same way they always have (and probably always will).

The old labels. The old patterns. The old version of me.

And that used to bother me a lot, because (1) it’s been hard to accept that those repeated mistakes are the cause of so many dissolved relationships; (2) I would instinctively compare my progress with those judgments, and it tore me up.

But other people don’t experience my growth in real time. They experience the version of me that they once knew. The Raspberry they interacted with. The Raspberry that affected them. And that version is real. To them. So when someone sees me through that lens, they’re right.

It’s just not current.

There’s a part of me that wants to lash out. “But I’m not that person anymore.”

But the most genuine growth doesn’t ask for an audience, and even when it gets one, not everyone is ready or willing to believe it.

So I don’t argue anymore. I no longer try to convince people to update their perceptions of me. I don’t overexplain my past, hoping to change opinions.

If someone needs to see change, they’ll see it through consistency – not through explanation.

My focus has been on living differently. Quietly. Consistently. Without a need for immediate recognition.

I tell the truth. I make better decisions. I stay where I used to run.

Not because anyone else is watching me. But because I am.

People are allowed to remember me however they experienced me. They’re allowed to hold onto the version of me that caused hurt. They’re allowed to be cautious, distant, or even closed off completely.

I do have to accept/respect their experiences. But I don’t have to sit there just because they choose to. I don’t have to agree with their current views. And I don’t have to make decisions that coincide with what they think.

Growth happens internally. Reputation happens externally. And those two things rarely move at the same speed. Sometimes your character has already changed, but reputation hasn’t caught up yet. And honestly, sometimes it never fully will.

There’s a quiet strength that comes with realizing that I don’t need everyone to see me correctly in order to live correctly.

It does hurt. Sure. I can see when someone still interacts with me based on whatever version of me they’ve conjured up in their minds – a version that no longer exists. I notice avoidance. I observe hypocrisy on a mass scale.

But those moments pass. I’m no longer dependent on changes in the perceptions of others to determine my direction.

I can’t control how I’m remembered. I can only control how I live today – and I have actively chosen honesty, responsibility, and self-awareness. I’m reinforcing something that matters more to me right now than any label – who I actually am.