Do I Know You? Do You Know Me? Do I Know Me?

Have you ever wondered how well we actually know people?

The truth is, we only know people as well as they allow themselves to be known.

And maybe even more unsettling than that:

people can only allow themselves to be known as deeply as they know themselves.

So the idea of truly “knowing” another person, or even knowing yourself, feels forever shifting, moving, incomplete.

I don’t know… I find that both intriguing and terrifying.

To think you know someone.

To think you know yourself.

And then suddenly realizing how much exists underneath the version you’ve been interacting with.

That there are entire inner worlds, contradictions, wounds, motives, fears, desires and parts of people that even they may not fully understand yet.

And maybe that means people are never static.

Maybe we’re all constantly becoming different versions of ourselves depending on what we uncover, avoid, suppress or survive.

There’s something deeply unsettling about realizing how fragile certainty really is.

Idk. Just thoughts looping through my head this afternoon.

I have more thoughts than this, but I can’t really organize them into anything coherent right now.

Maybe later.