If Only I was Someone Else...

In a world filled with criticism and condemnation, I’ve come to an unsettling realisation: if only I were more like my detractors, I wouldn’t be seen as such a nightmare. If only I wasn’t myself, I could finally become someone else—a person who aligns with the expectations and standards imposed by those who judge me most harshly.

This is not just a reflection on the external pressures I face but also an exploration of the internal battle between authenticity and the desire for societal acceptance.

The Weight of Criticism.

For years, I’ve been at the receiving end of relentless criticism about my views, conduct, and humour. Each word of condemnation has been a pebble thrown at the walls of my identity, with detractors insisting that my life choices are wrong, my personality is flawed, and my humour is offensive.

Their message is clear: to escape their ire, I must stop being myself. But what does that mean? Am I to surrender the experiences that have shaped me, the principles I hold dear, and the passions that fuel my creativity?

The Paradox of "If Only"

"If only" is a dangerous phrase. It suggests that happiness lies in an alternate reality where I’m not myself—a reality where I lead a life of bliss, happiness, and appeasement by meeting the expectations of others.

But here’s the paradox: if I were to shed my true self and adopt the persona of my detractors, would I still be me? Would this new version of Matt Taylor, molded by the whims of public opinion, bring genuine happiness?

The Cost of Conformity.

Conforming to others’ expectations might silence the criticism, but it would also silence the essence of who I am. My life, lived unapologetically, has been rich with experience—good and bad, joyful and painful. It’s these experiences that give me a unique perspective, a voice, and a sense of humour that, while unconventional, is undeniably my own.

To deny my past is to deny the lessons learned, the growth achieved, and the resilience built. The life I’ve lived may not be perfect, but it’s mine, and I wouldn’t trade it for a sanitized version of someone else’s approval.

Embracing the Nightmare.

Perhaps the real nightmare isn’t being myself but the fear of losing myself to appease others. I choose to embrace the parts of me that others may find difficult, not because I seek to provoke or offend, but because they are authentic.

The truth is, I’m not here to live a life of blissful ignorance or superficial appeasement. I’m here to question, to challenge, to laugh, and to grow. Those who criticize me may never understand my perspective, but that’s okay. I don’t need their approval to validate my existence.

A Message to My Detractors.

To those who wish I were someone else, I say this: I understand your discomfort with who I am because I’ve felt it myself. But I cannot and will not change to fit your mold. I wish I could. The world needs diverse voices, even the ones you might find unpalatable.

If being true to myself makes me a nightmare in your eyes, then so be it. I’d rather be an authentic nightmare than a counterfeit dream.

The Conclusion of "If Only".

In the end, the “if only” narrative is a trap—a siren song luring us away from the authenticity of our lives. I refuse to sing that tune. I am Matt Taylor, with all my flaws, quirks, and unconventional humour. And that, dear reader, is more than enough.

Let this serve as a reminder: don’t let the world convince you to be someone you’re not. Be unapologetically you, even when it’s hard. Life’s too short to live as someone else.