Author: Cryptic Anomaly
During my years from a teenager into adulthood, I have encountered people who seemed remarkably confident in their understanding of who I was, what I believed and how I should conduct myself. Some have formed their opinions through brief interactions while others had known me for years and still managed to overlook important aspects of my character. Living with Retinitis Pigmentosa (RP) and Complex PTSD has certainly influenced these experiences particularly when it comes to how others interpret my capabilities, behaviour and personal boundaries. Additionally, my interest in shadow pastel goth aesthetics adds another dimension to my self-expression that does not necessarily correspond with conventional expectations. Over time, I began noticing how frequently people relied on fragments of information to construct an entire understanding of someone. What I found particularly exhausting was not always the misunderstanding itself but the expectation that I should continually explain myself until my existence made sense to someone else.
Living with RP has made me conscious of how readily physical limitations can become assumptions about intellectual competence. My eyesight affects how I navigate certain environments and access information yet I remain a scholar, writer and individual with academic and creative ambitions. Similarly, C-PTSD introduces psychological complexities that cannot be adequately understood through a diagnosis alone. Trauma can influence emotional responses, relationships and the need for personal boundaries but interpreting every reaction through that lens risks overlooking the person making those decisions. I find this tendency particularly concerning because it allows someone to appear understanding while quietly dismissing another person’s judgement. A person can acknowledge my circumstances without assuming they possess a better understanding of my capabilities or motivations than I do. Unfortunately, sympathy and genuine respect are not always interchangeable and being treated with concern does not necessarily mean being treated as an equal.
My shadow pastel goth aesthetic presents a different but almost amusing example of how people attempt to categorise one another. I enjoy the combination of darker imagery and softer elements, however, I do not consider these preferences an elaborate statement about my psychological condition or moral character. There is no particular contradiction in appreciating gothic aesthetics while valuing peace, affection and intellectual exploration. However, appearances often encourage people to develop expectations about personalities they have never taken the time to understand. This raises a broader question about why individuality becomes difficult for others to accept when it does not conform to familiar categories. I am not especially interested in performing a personality that matches my clothing, artistic preferences or someone else’s understanding of a subculture. Sometimes an aesthetic is simply something we appreciate and the demand for a deeper explanation says more about society’s discomfort with ambiguity than it does about the person being questioned.
Of course, misunderstandings are unavoidable and I recognise that I am equally capable of forming inaccurate impressions of others. There are circumstances where clarification is necessary particularly when our actions affect someone else or when an honest conversation could prevent unnecessary conflict. Nevertheless, communication becomes unproductive when one person is expected to repeatedly defend their intentions while the other remains unwilling to reconsider an assumption. I have come to question how much emotional energy should be invested in conversations where understanding seems to be a one-sided responsibility. There is also something peculiar about being asked to explain an experience only to have that explanation challenged by someone who has never lived through it. I can appreciate curiosity and constructive disagreement, but I have little interest in turning my personal experiences into a debate simply to satisfy another person’s expectations.
At this point in my life, I have become more comfortable with the possibility that some people will never understand me regardless of how much information I provide. This does not mean I have stopped valuing honesty, openness or meaningful relationships. It means recognising that mutual understanding requires participation from both individuals and I cannot accomplish that on someone else’s behalf. My experiences have influenced how I approach life, but they have also taught me to be more selective about where I invest my attention. I would prefer to direct that energy towards my scholarly work, writing, relationships and personal development than spend it correcting every incomplete impression someone forms of me. People are entitled to their opinions, including those I consider inaccurate, and I am equally entitled to continue living without organising my identity around them. Perhaps the most liberating aspect of being misunderstood is realising that I can leave certain questions unanswered, certain assumptions uncorrected and certain people unconvinced without diminishing anything essential about myself.
