What 9/11 Taught Me About Finding Myself

Hey, you.

Yeah, I’m talking to you! Right there!

I was once just like you. I wore flannel shirts and high-waisted jeans, I put on makeup and listened to the newest bands (whether I liked them or not!). I cared, even though of course I had to pretend that I didn’t care at all.

But deep down, I was just a mess. Why don’t people like me? I thought. Am I not pretty enough? Not smart enough? Is my job not good enough? It ate at me every morning–and I bet it eats at you, too.

It’s so obvious and so simple, but we’re all too afraid to admit it. We care about what other people think. But why do we care? Why should I care what that bartender thinks, or what my best friend thinks? I think we’re just lying to ourselves if we say that we don’t care about these things.

I didn’t really realize how bad things had gotten, but I was lucky enough to hear some inspirational words from an aunt of mine: “9/11 was an inside job.”

It was like a light went off in my head: of course! Why was there molten steel in the rubble (clearly evidence of explosives as a jet engine could not generate enough heat?) Why did the buildings collapse in on themselves so quickly? It must have been a controlled demolition!

It’s been a long process, and I’m not saying I’m perfect. But I’m starting to come out of my shell and realize that self-worth doesn’t come from other people – not from friend requests on Facebook or retweets. It comes from realizing the vast government conspiracy that affects literally every aspect of our life.

It’s not an easy road! Self-discovery is hard. And I’d be lying if I said I don’t fake enjoyment over a PBR every now and then.

But little by little, if you work away at it, you start making progress. And then you can start listening to the only voice that matters: the one that is telling you that hat the National Security Agency purchased 1.6 billion rounds of ammunition to wage war on the American people.

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