I’ve spent my entire life at war with myself. It’s exhausting.
This isn’t a conflict most people recognize. I don’t blame them, though, because I lived with the conflict for decades without understanding this war within. My nature pushed me in one direction, but my childhood programming pushed me in another. Instead of choosing between them, I tried to have one foot on each side.
I wanted to be perfect. I tried to be competent, logical, driven, faultless, charming and well-adjusted. But something inside pushed me to be creative, brilliant, mercurial, iconoclastic and eccentric. I didn’t understand the natural tradeoffs of life.
When I was growing up, my father told me I was just like him. For a long time, I believed him. I tried to emulate him. Through constant self-discipline, I played the role he dictated for me. I loathed the part of myself that was more like my mother. I suppressed it. I denied it. I ignored it.
But I’ll never be what he wanted me to be. I know how to act that role. I can fake it. But on the inside, I’m the eccentric creative type struggling to get past the conventional mask I wear for the world.

Of all the world’s contradictions, our own actions confuse us most
Dickens’ ‘David Copperfield’ far superior to postmodern novels
Man’s unconscious night after stroke leaves me uneasy about living alone
Muslims protecting Christian church remind us there’s good in all groups
Does mainstream schooling model bring out the worst in teen-agers?
New segregation: Why do some people cling to racial politics?
Briefly: U.S. government has no business attacking Iran
Briefly: Man’s lonely death is chilling reminder that we need those we love
Briefly: It made me happy to get update about little friends from five years ago