Why You So Obsessed with Me: My Cycle of Self-Awareness, Accountability, and Apologies
About the series: “Why You So Obsessed with Me”
We all have our obsessions — that T.V. show we can’t seem to stop rewatching, that ex that still lingers in our minds even after blocking them, that fixation on a certain musician that we would do anything (anything!) for. Some are juvenile interests that make our lives more entertaining, while others can slide into dangerous territory (like that ex, for example). And when the word “obsession” gets paired with any marginalized identity, the term has an even more negative connotation — think LGBTQ+-centric fandoms or “feminine” interests. At Camp Thirlby, we want to explore these obsessions and deconstruct the concept to be a potentially liberating one, which is where our series “Why You So Obsessed with Me” comes in. To the tune of Mariah Carey’s song, our Camp Counselors have delved into their various obsessions even more to unpack what they might mean for their lives and identities, entailing the movie they can’t stop watching or their fixation with the scary, scary future. Whether it’s a method for them to grow into their obsessions or decide to leave them, these memoirs act as a shrine to the things we love, and maybe love too much.
I’ll be the first to admit I have an obsessive personality. Childhood saw me deeply obsessed with Harry Potter in my attempts to find a place to belong, and burgeoning adolescence saw me infatuated by the Twilight series as I toyed with my first notions of romantic love. Then, with my sexual awakening, there was One Direction, fit for me to project and fantasize and lose my mind in the most embarrassing of ways.
Today, early twenties, post-grad but still grappling to feel like an adult, there’s still an obsession — this time, it’s with myself. The ominous “they” say that your twenties are meant to be selfish, and I don’t disagree. But the way in which I am obsessed with myself isn’t necessarily in a self-serving, selfish or vain way, although I’ll be honest and say that it can (if you follow me on Instagram, yes, I know I post a lot of selfies). Nonetheless, my hyper fixation is not on my own needs over others, but in my own self-betterment for the sake of others. I am obsessed with processing. Processing my trauma, processing Why I Did That or Do That, or simply, why I am. I am self-obsessed, but I try to pass it off as a necessary evil. I am trying so hard to heal so that my tendencies do not harm others. It’s exhausting on so many levels — who actually wants to think about their family’s relationship dynamics when they were 5? — and yet I cannot stop. In my journey of self discovery, I’m excited to learn why I behave the way that I do, especially negatively. It armors me with an accountability that I cannot shirk.
If we are close, you’ve received a text from me about one of my recent “realizations.” It can be as mundane as to why I have been putting off editing my short film, or it might be heavier, weightier — like why I take an almost smug pride in my craving for solitude, but still feel a deep sense of loneliness. Every day, before getting out of bed, I take my time to journal and complete a guided meditation around my blocks and traumas. Every day, I am struck by the root of my fears, projections, and behaviors, uncovering something new about myself that I had long shoved away into hiding, under ego and pride. On any ordinary Tuesday afternoon, I am working through my codependency, practicing more direct communication, and analyzing the ways in which I can show up more — better — for the people I love.
When I began this process almost two years ago, I simply wanted to be a better person for others’ sake. I was tired of accidentally hurting loved ones with my mistakes and carelessness, or in extreme cases, the way I would respond not from a rational and measured thought process, but from my traumas and projections, acting out in sobbing meltdowns and expecting people to show up for me and essentially read my mind while I never expressed what I needed. It became clear that what I needed was to hold myself accountable for my shit.
Today, my desires to continue healing have expanded; ironically, through the process, I realized that trying to become a better person couldn’t be based solely on my relationships with other people. In the beginning, my deep, underlying fear of people “leaving” me was driving my quest to heal — I was afraid that if I didn’t work on myself, I would lose my loved ones, and I was desperate to “make people stay.” In that way, I was still acting out my childhood fears and traumas, and this response was fair to no one. First off, my loved ones deserved better. Regardless of the progression of our relationship, whether we remained “friends forever” or not, I recognized that the people in my life — and truly everyone — deserve someone who cares authentically for them and who doesn’t act in their own self interest as I had been. Secondly, I couldn’t base my sense of self-worth on being good enough for others, or good enough to others — that was in some ways manipulative and in others just not a constructive way to live. In truth, a person’s goodness is subjective, and in reality, the only person we need to be okay with us is ourselves. Relationships don’t just require you to not act like an asshole, but for you to show up, listen, and care for your loved ones the way they individually need, to the best of your abilities.
From that realization, my relationship with “the work” changed. My self obsession evolved into an obsession with the human condition, and understanding others on a base level. But even still, when I first began, this obsession manifested negatively, leading me to think I was meant to do others’ work for them, telling them what was wrong with them, what they needed to heal, why they were acting in so and so way and how to stop. This led to another personal cycle of looking at my savior complex, and attempting to put it to rest. That’s the thing with an obsession with analysis and accountability — once you begin, you can’t stop. There will always be more to uncover, learn, discuss, apologize for, forgive, and heal.
My obsession with healing and with holding myself accountable has given me a sense of freedom I haven’t embodied before. I am quicker to forgive, and quicker to say “I’m sorry,” and meaningfully articulate as to why. It’s given me more patience, more understanding, and tempered my feelings of embarrassment and the intensity of my emotions. It’s given me a greater sense of self worth, and ironically, I like to think it’s made me less selfish. I feel I have taken the driver’s seat of my own life and live more consciously, no longer at the whims of my own self-righteousness. By working on healing the parts of myself I dislike and releasing the traumatic events I experienced as a child, I am able to see others more wholly; we are all coping in some capacity all the time. So when a person or situation upsets me, I now recognize that frequently, it’s not personal. We are all acting out and replaying our own versions of the truth, our own perceptions and projections of right and wrong, and our own internalized fears and traumas. When I take a moment to see and feel this, the drama and anxiety slip away.
While self awareness is kind of exhausting, it’s also kind of fun, and extremely satisfying. To see and make the connections between things like my childhood bullies and my career seems far-fetched, but they do exist, and it blows my mind every time. Plus, at this point, no one can tell me something negative about myself that I don’t already know — trust me, I’m already working on it.
About the Author
Maura Fallon (she/her) is a filmmaker and writer living in Los Angeles. Her creative process is rooted in collection — the collection of emotion, memories, postcards, people, matchbooks, and experiences. She hopes that in her art she can guide people to reconnect with their own collection of things, and do justice by the ones that make up her own.
