Being mysterious is lonely

In honour of my last semester ever in this university, I am revealing the most invaluable lesson I learned during my waning time here. Whether you're just starting out or already deep into your university experience, I hope that you do not read into this as a step-by-step manual, rather this is an antidote to a how-to-guide to university. I am only wishing to pass this as a token of wisdom to help you carve your own path and create your own unique "how-to's” along the way.

Looking back, starting university at the height of the pandemic back in the fall of 2020 feels like an eerie foreshadowing. Those days my four roommates and I spent confined— indoors, glued to our phones, in our own heads. It was during this time that I became undeniably addicted to social media, particularly TikTok.

As my life revolved more around the online world, it was easy to pick up trends and transform them into real-life identities, even when they didn’t serve me fully. My brain, still in its early stages of development at the start of COVID, absorbed everything on social media like a sponge. This was perhaps fuelled by an undiagnosed phone addiction that I only now recognize, I was so my reliant on online content to seek not just inspiration but to fill any in between silences in my head. Relatively, there was the absence of an inner filter of what I should and shouldn’t consume, but rather assumed that every body else was right. I had this unchecked belief that if it did not come from me, it must’ve been right!

Back then, there was a circulating topic in regards to a person’s “vibe” that many users often expressed their wish to embody. It was the “cool factor” or the allure of “being mysterious,” a concept that looked like it transformed anyone into the enigmatic person everyone couldn't help but notice. In retrospect, I realize how easily I absorbed trends without questioning their impact on me.

Though innately shy, younger me in the right environment was a girl who loved to talk—and then talk some more. But in an unfamiliar setting, this became increasingly more difficult as I grew up. Due to unhealed beliefs I had as a child, I had grown up thinking that I was not able to be honest with people with my real feelings, that what I was really thinking was not good enough or valid enough to contribute to a conversation.

TikTok assured me that being mysterious was desirable and I immediately jumped on the idea to switch a rhetoric about myself that I repulsed at the time, into one that would be advantageous instead. And voilà! I identified as this mysterious person who is private, no one knew anything about, and seemingly intriguing. Whatever unease I may have carried about being shy vanished almost instantly when I encountered this trend.

But, my desire to adopt the 'mysterious vibe' stemmed from an insecurity that I hadn’t yet addressed—disguised as empowering, it only deepened my isolation.

It did not check out that I had took this trend a little too far. Thank the stars I reflected a lot in 2024, otherwise, I would’ve missed that this leach of an identity had permeated through even a portion of my final year in university. It even became my personality in one particular class. There, I prided myself in always showing up as my best self, appearance-wise, hyper-aware of the “aura” I gave off. I kept to myself during discussion periods, I did not even talk to the person across the table. I figured my shyness would hide under the mystery, but I compensated for it with a debonair, “confident” style.

Sometimes our brain creates defence mechanisms without us knowing, we form habits, and eventually deep-seated beliefs, based on the little interactions or information we receive. Is it particularly well-suited for us? Perhaps not. Yet, the impressions left by what we hear and see—if significant enough—are absorbed into our subconscious, where they quietly take root.

And our actions are instructions from the quiet listener, our subconscious.

Perilously, what we hear and see— whether that’s online or in-person observations, either lacks truth in some part or has been distorted through countless retellings since its origin. Therefore, becoming overly invested in such topics without critically evaluating whether they align with what we value, what we desire, and our vision for ourselves and the world is especially dangerous for those of us in university, whose developing brains are still like sponges.

Granted, I made a singular friend during this class (God bless her), she was away often, thus I sat, alone, with that one other person across the end of the table. That person did establish that spot as “their seat” for the rest of the semester and so did I with my own, but we never spoke a word to each other. By the time we took our final exams, I didn’t know where that person had gone—they might have switched seats. With my friend absent, I found myself sitting alone in an empty row, surrounded by the chatter of classmates bonding with their newfound friends.

Despite all those years staying in my comfort zone of mystery, I was massively uncomfortable. That’s the thing with unchecked beliefs, unless you sit with it, over and over, in quiet, away from the noise, it’s hard to help yourself.

Ultimately, I delegated an unprecedented measure of authority to a public opinion. The last thing I wanted was to come off as was someone who was high in her horse; whether this assumption was merely a result of my overthinking or if it was the energy that vibrated from the pursuit of “mystery,” I was mortified at the realization.

To this day, I still see people online chasing the idea of being "mysterious," hoping to replace their natural traits—perhaps being loud or talkative—with something more “socially admired”. But during such formative years of our lives, we might not be consciously aware of the emotional and social consequences of adopting a certain persona.

I’ve come to realize that you will never be able to build a connection on “aura” or whatever vibe happens to be trendy. We might admire someone else for a difference in consciousness that they bravely take on that makes them different. To be considered as having that “cool factor” or however you want to put it, is lovely—as long as you realize that it’s a very superficial thing, something that can disappear in a second, and means nothing. To place that over how we look like on the inside, is a disservice to us and society.

I am still facing the repercussions of my actions, and I cannot escape my past.

However, what I find to be true so far is that opinions are so flooded in our everyday in such a splintering and severe way.

The hope is really that you can find your own compass within all of it.

If you’re in university—or even if you’re not—I encourage you to stop taking advice from others. Not from your mom, your aunt, your uncle! (I’m kidding, it might be helpful to ask your mom). At the very least, be critical of it. What you don’t see is the inner world of that person, and you don’t want to unknowingly absorb their perspective or the complexities of their experiences and emotions.

Our inner guidance, or whatever higher power you believe in, is our most trusted and constant confidante, the respite for a lonely and overworked lower mind. What you should do has always been inside you. Never compromise what feels right for you and your soul. At the start of my quest to find my inner compass, unassuming and overlooked during my lifetime, I remained skeptical. Until one day, a homeless man whose name I never caught walked with me to my bus stop. In my eyes, he was sent to me at the right time. He told me, “A house built on other people’s opinions is a crooked house.”

A house built by you, and only you, possesses unparalleled peace.

The brutality of youth chronicles people in profound and different ways; unlearning what you once believed is never easy and is a constant battle.

But this is it, a step to the liberation of the spirit, coming out on the other end, with clearer eyes.