Defne YucesoyI’m a curious person. I have always been fascinated by why people do what they do and why they choose something over another. I have always understood that nobody does something without comparing it. Nobody went to the cafe you saw them at without comparing it with another one. I don’t think I’ve ever been able to take things at a surface level understanding. Every action feels like it must have a reason hidden underneath it, and every person seems like a puzzle waiting to be understood with their experiences.
People often describe curiosity as a strength and as something that pushes you forward. It is often said that wanting to understand others mean that you are a empathetic person, thoughtful and emotionally intelligent. Perhaps it does mean this but I have understood that qualities that appear glamorous from the outside can carry a weight on the inside that nobody sees or talks about. Why? Because the same curiosity that makes you considered “empathetic” and allows you to understand people also sometimes make it impossible to stop thinking about them.
I have spent hours re-reading texts, replaying conversations in my head, journaling, not because I wanted to relive them but because ı wanted to understand why the situation I’m in ended up this way and because ı wanted to understand them. I search for motives behind works of well known people, meanings behind silences and explanations with closure for change. They might not always have explanations. Sometimes ı wonder if someone was acting a certain way towards me because they were hurting, afraid, having a tough time at home or simply because they didn’t know any better. I rarely stop at “they did this.” My mind immediately asks, “But why?”. This thought me that although understanding others make you compassionate, it is also a form of self-sabotage.
When you try so hard to understand others, you begin to find excuses to actions that hurt you. You replace your disappointment and anger with empathy. You tell yourself that they didn’t mean it but you don’t even believe it deep inside do you? Instead of comprehending that something was fair and what happened has happened you find yourself asking why it happened in the first place.
To be completely honest with you, I envy people who accept things without dissecting them and think they have it so much more easier. I envy the person who hears words for what they are and actions as they are showcased and don’t spend nights thinking why. I envy people who can say something happened then move on without having to search for meanings between the lines.
But I wouldn’t trade this part of myself for a million dollars if I could.
This is me, this is Defne. She is emotional and feels like herself when she asks why. Despite the sadness and sorrow curiosity brings, it has always taught me that individuals are not malicious or heroes and they are simply humans. It has shown me that people are contradictory, that someone can love but still hurt you and that good intentions can lead to horrible outcomes. It has taught me that everyone has fears, ambitions, goals, passions hopes and stories to tell. Perhaps this is the reason I continue to ask why.
Not because I need answers to every “why”, but because ı strongly believe that understanding others is one of the closest ways to understand ourselves. I am still learning that not every question deserves an answer and not every silence hides a secret. Most importantly, not every ending needs an explanation.
Sometimes, the kindest thing you can do for yourself is to stop trying to understand and simply allow yourself to feel.
And perhaps that, too, is a kind of understanding.
