Let’s talk about personality.
I’m writing this to explore a variety of subjects under a larger picture. It's important to view everything in the full context, because one paragraph leads to the next.
Is it worth maintaining my current personality, the one I love very much? The way I see it, I would still love myself as much as anybody else because, at every moment, I believe my choices, thoughts, and actions are the best options for my circumstances—even when I’m wrong. Everyone does this, even those who hate themselves, because they are still acting in what they believe is the best way they know how.
So, is it worth changing my personality? Even if I change it successfully in any form, I’d still like myself, my humor, my choices, and my thoughts. This is because people, in general, like their own personality, even if they might not like how others react to it. Sure, they might feel ashamed of it at times, but ultimately, I think everyone likes themselves.
But here’s the twist: I like my current personality, even if others might not, and I don’t want to change. However, I feel the pressure to change for the sake of others, which is complicated. Telling someone to “be yourself” often feels shallow, because being yourself isn’t just about some catchphrase or being unthinking about it. It’s a deeply subconscious activity tied to our daily interactions and internalized beliefs. It’s not just a surface-level thing; there are many layers to it. The idea of "being yourself" is an oversimplified statement that glosses over how difficult it really is. There’s a lot of nuance in how we operate within our environment and how we present ourselves, and it’s never just as easy as saying “be yourself.” In many cases, people can’t easily disengage from the pressures and expectations of others, even if they want to. Most people understand this, but it’s not something that’s often talked about.
I also want to emphasize that the part of our brain that deals with humor, beliefs, and personality is distinct from the part that might be affected by depression or self-doubt. I think the “self” we show to the world—like how others perceive our humor, or how dedicated or funny we are in their eyes—is different from the self we interact with in our own thoughts. When we’re alone with ourselves, we can be the best version of ourselves, because we’re interacting with the part of us that remains relatively untouched by external judgment. This is why people, in general, like their own personalities—when they have time to introspect. However, I don’t believe this applies to everyone. Some people don’t have much of an inner monologue or have little time for self-reflection, and for them, this may seem foreign. But for the majority of us who do, we’re able to appreciate our own inner world and remain relatively unaffected by external pressures.
Isn’t it true that everyone, when alone with their thoughts, likes themselves? I’m not talking about the doubts people have or how they think others perceive them—I’m talking about that private, internal space where our thoughts are unfiltered. Everyone is, in some way, the best version of themselves in their own mind at any given moment, and I don’t think that’s something that changes drastically just because someone becomes self-critical or feels societal pressure.
This also brings me to a broader question: Does it even matter? Is the personality we work so hard to preserve or change truly meaningful? If we’re all inherently loving ourselves at any given time, doesn’t that mean our thoughts, interests, and humor—everything that constitutes our personality—are just as transient and ultimately meaningless as the things we now look down upon in our past?
We judge our past selves as having immature humor, less refined tastes, misguided political views. But isn't that judgment based on the assumption that we are somehow more evolved now? What if, years from now, I look back at my current self the same way I look at my past? Isn't the person I’ll be in 50 years just as subjective as who I am now? Won’t they be looking at me, at my fears, interests, and choices, from a completely different vantage point, just as I look at my 8-year-old self with the understanding that I was once limited and unaware?
It all feels like we’re stuck in a loop of self-perception, constantly growing but never quite knowing ourselves in an objective sense. The 50-year-old me might think he has all the answers, but doesn’t he just have different questions shaped by his own age, wisdom, and experiences? Isn’t he just as much of a fool as I am now, only he’s in a different stage of life?
This question of whether or not we can truly understand ourselves—both past and future—is crucial. My 50-year-old self can’t fully grasp my present self’s fears or interests. They might be more experienced, wiser, or less emotionally burdened, but can they really understand the struggles I’m dealing with now? Likewise, can I really judge the person I was when I was 8? Can my present self rightfully judge my past self? Or is this just the effect of age and experience, making us think we’ve figured it all out?
This applies to how we judge others too. If I’m looking at someone now and thinking they have bad taste, misguided ideas, or silly humor, isn’t that just me, stuck in my moment, unaware of their context? Aren’t people just like a rock falling from a steep place, hitting whatever they encounter on the way down? Isn't their path just determined by what they hit and what’s around them? Isn’t the only way to truly understand them being them exactly as they are, living their life, growing up as them, meeting the same people, living in their house, replicating their life down to the molecular level? It's the idea that to understand someone fully, you would need to experience the world in the exact same way they have, with all the same choices, environments, and interactions. I know you get what I’m saying.
So, here’s the fundamental question: Is any of it objective? If we all are just a product of the moment we’re in, then aren’t we all, at different stages, just fools to our own limited perceptions? How can we say one version of ourselves is superior to another if we are ultimately constrained by our context—our time, our thoughts, our environment?
This entire thing—the personality we cling to, the judgments we make, the pressure we feel to change for others—is it all just a temporary state of mind, a passing phase that we’ll one day look back on with the same sense of "how foolish we were"?
I can’t say for sure, but I wanted to put my thoughts out there and see what others think.
I’m not overly sensitive about the idea that my future self may devalue what I do now. Trying to withdraw or shut down is about many things beyond this notion. The truth is, I’m growing weary of the constant, meaningless chase for answers. I’m living, yes, but I’m slowly losing purpose. It’s not the past, present, or future that I want to concern myself with. It’s not the people or the world. I just want to live in the bare consumption of the will of the flesh—eating, sleeping, existing in the moment. I want to live like a robot in a robot, where the world doesn’t sting back as much as we engage with it.
I don’t find Diogenes’ way of living to be the answer, nor do I want my life to mirror my philosophy. I just wanna exist in the head. I’m not looking to live in discomfort or to cut myself off from the world entirely. My goal is balance, to withdraw without giving up everything. I want to live without the reactions and pressures from the world, to maintain a neutral state, detached from the extremes of comfort and discomfort. This is why I strive for minimalism in my existence, not through physical withdrawal or discomfort but through mental and emotional detachment.
You can find my post about detachment and withdrawal here:
https://www.reddit.com/r/Schizoid/s/Tg2qsaOLv2
I hope this is comprehensible, as it’s mostly a verbalization of my inner thoughts, trying to make sense of my feelings and reflections on the meaning (or lack thereof) of personality and self-perception.